


Return To Power

by Knave_Iespyk



Series: Lunar Cycle Series [3]
Category: Thundercats
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-30
Updated: 2010-08-30
Packaged: 2017-10-11 08:55:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 70,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/110624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Knave_Iespyk/pseuds/Knave_Iespyk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Following the events of Expansion & Conquest, the Lunataks are struggling to establish a foothold on Third Earth while carrying out Luna's vision for the future, but an ancient evil has come to the planet.  Can the Thundercats and Lunataks put aside their differences long enough to vanquish their common foe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Return To Power by Jonathan J. Prideaux  
Chapter 1

"Our story begins long before your pathetic species took its first breath. We were a powerful people, obsessed with knowledge, constantly thirsting for more. With what we knew we grew in strength, our technology allowing us to cheat death time and time again until we became nigh immortal."

"Perhaps we grew too quickly. The gods feared us, and with good reason. Every scientific advance brought us closer to being gods ourselves and they knew we would conquer them in time if they allowed it."

"They didn't. Seeing our strength they banished us from our home world, scattering us throughout the galaxy, and trapping our bodies. I, along with some of my kin, found myself on the Moons of Plundarr trapped inside that wretched hovel I showed you. Gradually we learned to manipulate the primitive minds of any creature that came near, be they insects or your earliest ancestors. But their minds were weak and we consumed them quickly."

"Such frustration led to anger, and I slayed one of my kin. It was then that I discovered that by killing them I grew in strength, I gained control. My remaining family and friends died soon after, their lives given in order that I might become almighty. And yet, I still needed a host. A shell in which to put my essence until I could become even more powerful. That's when you came along, Shade. Your mind was weakened by the poisons in the water and I was able to take hold. You started going mad, just like all the others, but something happened. The explosion on the bus rendered you unconscious, and I was able to nurture our bond, repairing the damage that had been done. You proved to be a valuable learning tool for my revenge on the gods and those that serve them. Together we will conquer this primitive planet and I will grow even more powerful. With what I have learned, I will create a new body for myself. I might even let you rule this pathetic world in my stead as I search the cosmos for more of my kin."

Shade was being put to work by the spirit that still inhabited her body, though she noticed that it seemed able to float around the room as non-corporeal mist too, which it was doing now. Following Mumm-Ra's destruction, the two had found themselves buried deep underground, and she was now being made to create rooms in this cavern. A large pit was steadily receiving a gentle drip of water. In the two months it had been there it had only filled half way. She shifted a pile of sand up to the surface like she'd been taught and settled on a stone bench. The spirit slipped from around her body, reverting it back to the old woman she truly was, and wafted eagerly around the room.

"Once I kill enough of my kinsmen, I will be as powerful as any god. The heavens themselves will run with whatever blood courses through their veins. All will worship me!"

"What if they try and stop you again?" she asked. Shade resented the spirit and all it was making her do. She had no alternative in the matter, though. It had promised to leave her friends and family alone if she co-operated and, while she didn't quite believe the spirit, she had little choice but to accept.

"Why do you think I chose this planet? The gods have forgotten this world, abandoned it to the native peoples when they stopped believing. By the time they realize what I'm doing, it will be too late. Now come, back to work."

* * *

There was a gentle breeze blowing through the Caymar Valley. It was here that Tycho Lunar had settled following the incidents on Third Earth. Even now, two months later, he could remember them vividly and the roller coaster of emotions that he'd felt. They had decided to settle the area known as Dark Side, even surprised the Thundercats by making it legal and official through the Interplanetary Control Force. He'd felt proud of his people, working together to build a new city. They had triumphed with those same Thundercats over the evil Mumm-Ra, destroying his pyramid utterly in the process; his corpse had been found and taken to Cat's Lair for observation, but it seemed like he was genuinely gone this time. It was a remarkable victory and he'd felt such a rush of joy at the accomplishment, and sadness and the terrible price they'd paid in blood and flesh. So many Lunataks, a fifth of what they'd brought, dead.

And then Aristarchus had come, a memory that made Tycho growl aloud. His old rival who had killed his way to the top and tried on numerous occasions to kill Tycho too, had been named governor of Third Earth. Tycho still could not understand why that was. He'd tried to kill Luna, kidnaped Amok and threatened to kill him, and she ignored all this to put him in power? Were they *that* short on candidates for the position?

When he'd gotten back from Third Earth and confronted her, she'd told him that she was under the impression he just wanted a nice place out in the country to live with his lover/protector Darius, and was granting his wish. She'd been so smug about it that he wanted to hit her for it, but one look at the monstrous Amok told him not to.

"Is everything alright?" one of his sheep asked him, startling him for half a second until the sheep turned into Darius. He'd forgotten that the changeling was mingling with his flock.

"It's this whole Aristarchus and Luna mess," He replied, tapping his staff lazily against the palm of his hand. "I know he's up to no good over there, undoing all the good relations I built with the Thundercats."

Darius nodded in understanding. Tycho had been so furious that he'd actually asked him to shape change into Luna so that he could beat her up. Darius didn't like giving in to that kind of request, it was dangerous and wasn't particularly pleasant to be on the receiving end of. "What do you plan to do?"

"I need someone I can trust near him, to make sure that he's not plotting against Luna," a proverbial light bulb went off over his head. "And I know just who to call."

* * *

Looking at Mumm-Ra's corpse was not Cheetara's idea of fun, but it was necessary work. All too often Mumm-Ra had seemed to be gone forever and resurfaced later, more powerful than before. Because of that, they made inspecting his body a part of the routine patrols. He was located in a special room, vacuum sealed to protect it from the elements and locked in a variety of manners to make retrieving it more difficult. Even with all that it was hard to look at the body and not expect it to rise.

He was shriveled, wearing bandages and his red cloak, his head turned to face the window, eyes hollow and lifeless. He had been at ground zero when the pyramid had been bombarded and imploded. He'd fallen at the edge of the crater where the building used to be, and the Thundercats had taken him home.

Was he truly dead, she wondered, could they breathe at last? Seeing that he hadn't moved, and knowing that the motion sensors would alert them even if he did, she continued along the halls, heading to report in to the control room.

* * *

Letting out a long and colourful string of curses, Zanaya of the Psion Moon looked around at the room that might as well have been her prison. Seven months pregnant with the unwanted child of Knave, grandson of Chilla and a member of one of the more powerful houses on the Ice Moon, was not a situation she was particularly fond of. Especially given the precise nature of it. She had managed to offend one of the Lunar gods, one who just happened to have influence over fertility. This child, and every single complication the goddess could think of, was her curse.

A sudden need to cool down overwhelmed her. The stupid child was hot, apparently. As a Psion child developed, the mother often formed a telepathic bond with it, knowing its needs and desires while it was still in the womb. Most parents found this to be a blessing, but Zanaya was finding it to be a nuisance. The hint of Ice Walker blood was just enough to make the baby have difficulty regulating its internal temperature against that of the mother.

She eyed the door, debating whether she would be able to slip down to the cafeteria in Sky Tomb without one of her guardians popping up. Knave, thanks to a secondary telepathic bond designed to keep parents together, was always on hand, wanting to make sure she was comfortable. On the flip side was her uncle, one of the high priests of the Psion Moon; Mystan Benekasbeel. He was also frequently around, to keep Knave away from her. She liked his presence more than the Icewalker/Cheetah hybrid, but always felt like he was staring at her disapprovingly. While mixed race children weren't unheard of, they were more common on the other moons than the isolated and reclusive Psions.

Still, there was no sense putting it off for too long. The child wanted to be cool, and it would continue to mentally pester until she gave in. She stepped toward the door and it swished open. There was no sign of either man outside so she continued on to the cafeteria.

 

* * *

At that moment, Knave was watching the Thunderian visitors with some degree of interest. As an act of good faith, Panthro and Bengali were helping with engine modifications on a machine that would plant crops. It was in their best interests, really, since a steady food supply would ensure that the Lunataks wouldn't need to do any raiding outside of their borders.

Knave hadn't really met Panthro yet, but liked what he saw. None of the Thundercats truly liked the Lunataks, though Lion-O was starting to change his mind. Panthro was the most open about his opinions, and that was refreshing. Knave really disliked the backstabbing and political manoeuvring that went on in life, preferring to be honest in his reactions.

Bengali was another matter entirely. The younger Tiger had encountered Knave one day and they'd hit it off based entirely on their mutual heritage. Bengali was fascinated by his origins and what life had been like. Knave, on the other hand, found it hard not to tell Bengali what they typically did to Thunderians they captured on the Ice Moon. Life was hard there and if they couldn't find another use for you, they would turn you into a food source. Knave's mother had lamented to him once that she wished they'd done that to her, at least death would have been quick. Warming the bed of his father against her will, often shackled to prevent her escape, was no way to be.

As they stepped back from the machine, Bengali glanced over at him and waved cheerfully. "Ho, Knave!" he shouted.

"Hello Bengali," Knave replied cordially, walking over and shaking both his and Panthro's hands.

"Cheetara's been asking about you," Bengali said, "keeps saying that she'd like to talk to you about your mother."

Panthro snorted, obviously having had a discussion on the matter with Cheetara. "Probably feels lonely, not knowing any one else of her kind."

"Why don't you come with us back to the Lair? We have to go that way anyway," Bengali said. Knave was still looking at Panthro as he said it and caught the flash of annoyance on the Panther's face.

"I'll check with my commanding officer, but I don't think it will be a problem," he said, keeping eye contact and smirking.

* * *

"There we are," the spirit said as Shade sat huddled against the wall. It had abandoned her to do its own work, and now returned it's attention to her. The misty creature settled around her body, making it stronger and younger again, a process that she had once found exhilarating now filled her with revulsion as she understood the evil that made it happen. "To the surface we go."

* * *

A pair of warrior maidens travelled through a valley near their village. It was peaceful and quiet, and the sun was just beginning to peak. They knew of an orchard nearby that produced succulent fruit and had made up their minds to get some for their village, a treat in preparation for a local festival. With baskets in their hands, and bows in the other, they chatted amiably about the latest hunt. They were completely unprepared for when the ground grabbed at their feet, catching them up to their ankles.

"What's happening?" one of them cried, yanking on her leg to try and pull it free of the muck.

"I don't know," the other said, keeping her calm and digging at the soil with her bare hands. Suddenly the ground gripped her hands too, and she began to struggle in earnest and she screamed.

"Quiet, pitiful humans," Shade snapped descending from above. She had been flying along, almost invisible when the spirit had taken control of her hands to weave the magic. The first warrior maiden dropped her basket and started to pull an arrow out of her quiver. The angle was awkward, but she managed to let loose a forceful shot that Shade had to move quickly to avoid. The spirit moved her hands again and streams of black sticky goo coated both warrior women, solidifying into nets that surrounded them.

"Let us go!" the second woman shouted. "We've done nothing to you."

"I don't think so," Shade sneered. With a strength that she knew could only come from her spiritual entity, she picked up both nets and soared back to her underground home.

* * *

The tension in the Thundertank was thick enough that it could be cut with a knife. Once Bengali had been dropped off at the Tower of Omens, Panthro and Knave drove in silence the bulk of the way to the Lair where Cheetara had been asked to meet them. Finally Panthro spoke. "Just so you know, I'm going to be within easy hearing of the two of you, so if you try anything."   
His voice was low, but the meaning behind the words was easily interpreted. Never one to take a threat idly, Knave bared his teeth "If I wanted her dead, I'd kill her before you could stop me. I could probably kill you too."

The Thundertank stopped abruptly, and Panthro opened the hatch, gesturing an invitation to settle the conflict. "I said 'if.' I happen to like Cheetara," Knave said, the meaning behind his own words as plain as the nose on his face. He wasn't averse to fighting the man, just felt that now wasn't the best time. He really did want to see Cheetara again, she'd been a friendly face during a dark time, and she looked so much like his mother it was astounding.

"I'll remember that when you Lunataks break the truce," Panthro replied, starting the engine again.

* * *

A careful measure of potatoes went on each plate as the line of Lunataks went past Red Eye's station. Cooking had always been a passion of his, even if there were few who appreciated his sensitive palette. He'd found himself immersing himself in cooking more and more lately, using it to escape the torrential grief that threatened to drown him. Losing his daughter in the epic battle against Mumm-Ra had been devastating, a battle that she shouldn't have been at, and one that left more questions than it had answers.

He'd presumed her lost once before, when they'd first learned that they had been entombed in lava on Third Earth for eighty years. Lunataks lived a long time, but such a time made her living unlikely. He'd accepted it. And then he'd found her alive on the moons, a reunion that should have been triumphant.

The last time he'd seen her she had displayed strength and energy that seemed impossible, and she'd been running to the black pyramid. Moments later, the obliteration of that demonic structure and the ruin of the last piece of his family. Chilla had been there for him in the months since then, as well as Alluro and Tug Mug, but their words of comfort seldom seemed to make much difference. And so here he was, working in the cafeteria, dolling out food to any who wanted it.

A pregnant woman, Zanaya if he remembered the name correctly, approached. She had a plate in one hand and a large drink in the other. She held out the plate and he placed a scoop of potato on it. Everyone knew who she was, her child promised to be the first born in the city of New Lunis, people were excited. Chilla was not; she would be a great-grandmother, and Tug Mug made sure to remind her of the fact.

He was startled out of his thoughts by the stifled groan from the woman and saw that she was reacting to Mystan, who had seemingly appeared out of nowhere. He had grabbed her plate telekinetically and jerked it towards him. "You shouldn't be out of your room without an escort," he snapped. "You're getting close, and who knows where that half-breed of yours is."

"I can handle this myself," she said, raising her voice and drawing the attention of others nearby.

"Handling things yourself is what got you in this mess." He was trying not to make a bigger scene of this than he needed to, but knew that it was inevitable that he would come across as the bad guy here. He wanted to protect her, help her during this delicate time. The birth of a child was a time of great joy and spiritual celebration among his people. The health of the baby would reflect on the family and their faith. "I'll just take your plate to a table and meet you there."

"You sure you don't want to carry me too?" she said, a little harsher than she otherwise might have, but followed anyway.

* * *

It was rare that they had guests, but Tycho and Darius were always open to visits from friends. Roly Poly was the current head of the Graviton council, a position held by anyone who wanted it, within certain guidelines. The two had become fast friends during Tycho's brief reign, and so his visit was a pleasant surprise. Tycho had just finished washing up when Darius shouted from the fields announcing the arrival.

Tycho greeted the Graviton warmly, accepting with as much dignity as he could when the latter pulled him in for a hug. Before his tiny frame could be pulled into Roly Poly's significant gut Tycho slipped free. "Welcome to our humble home," he said, gesturing at the rustic farm house. "I'm afraid we probably don't have as much food as you'd like, but we'll gladly share whatever there is." He saw the side door close and knew that Darius was off to start preparing dinner, which also meant that the sheep were safely taken care of.

"Not to worry, I know how leettle you Royal Lunars eat. That's why I came prepared," Roly Poly announced, walking back to his car. With reverence he began pulling food out of the back; a large roast, some beer, and a pie. Tycho wrinkled his nose as he saw it. He hated eating pie, especially of the Graviton variety. They tended to be far too greasy for his tastes, but then just about everything associated with Gravitons was like that.

He joined Roly Poly at the car and took the pie and beer from him, carting it into the house for the meal and ushered his guest to the sitting room. Tycho took his customary seat in the large purple chair that sat by the window. From this chair, if he turned it, he could gaze out on his property and watch as the sun set in the evening. Luna had picked the perfect spot for his semi-retirement.

Roly Poly settled on the couch, the wood creaking eerily as he did, and regarded the former prince. "You're looking well," he said, keeping the conversation to straightforward topics while Darius was busy. There would be time for more serious matters later.

"Thank you, I see you've put on some weight," Tycho replied.

"Eet's good of you to notice. I've been trying to eat more, but there's only so much room een the stomach." Tycho would never understand the appeal, but figured they could live their lives however they wanted to. It didn't impact him. Except, of course, when he'd been forced to attend various functions hosted by Gravitons. They always insisted that he looked too skinny and practically force-fed him platters of fatty foods.

"Yes, well. I hope you'll find dinner satisfying enough. It should be ready soon."

* * *

Shade had been abandoned almost immediately upon arriving back home. The spirit still found it necessary to keep close, but it also was clearly trying to keep some things hidden from her. At present it was floating in front of the two captured warrior maidens, both trapped in an earthen cell with a strange magical barrier preventing their escape. They'd become quieter since their arrival, the hopelessness of the situation firmly sinking in. This far beneath the surface their cries for help would go unheard, and nothing they could do would harm the ghostly mist that seemed to delight in their misery.

"Let us go!" one of them, the older of the two, begged. "By the woodland gods I beg of you!"

The words seemed to anger the spirit and it soared through the energy barrier, wrapping itself around the frightened woman. She screamed now, her sister clawing at the smoke to no effect. Shade winced as the screaming grew weaker and weaker until it finally stopped. The spirit wafted back through the barrier, letting the warrior woman drop. "Come and see, Shade," it said, and she knew it was an order rather than a suggestion. Struggling to her feet, Shade approached the cell and saw a withered woman inside. She wasn't sure what the spirit had done, but it resembled a skeleton wrapped in skin.

"What have you done to her?" she asked, unable to remove her eyes from the desiccated body.

"I have stolen most of her life force, far more than I had intended, truthfully. This cell will drain the energy I need for me but, as you can see, I can also speed up the process. I will take all I need until there is nothing left," the spirit replied, turning its sinister attention to the other woman, who trembled as she listened. "Your precious woodland gods can't hear you here. They have abandoned you to my mercies. We'll bring you some company soon enough."

* * *

They were in what could be described as a sunroom. Along one wall were a series of tall slender windows, allowing rays of light to cascade against the set of chairs. This was, Cheetara had explained, one of her favourite rooms to be in. The Cat's Lair was designed as a fortress first and foremost, but rooms like this made it pleasant to be in. Knave couldn't help but agree. Some primal instinct deep within his being relished the feel of the sun beating down on him, warm enough without baking him. They had exchanged pleasantries and engaged in small talk for some time, and he really found himself conflicted in his opinions of her, a fact he confided in her.

"I was always told that Thunderians were worthless, and I've believed it for so long. Why are you so nice to me?" he said. The lesson had been beaten into him, as a constant reminder that he himself was useless too, being half feline.

"Because not all stories are true. I've learned to judge each person by what they do, not what groups they belong to. You're a Lunatak, but you're not like Tug Mug or Alluro. You're you," she replied. He looked so vulnerable in front of her and she wanted to hug him, tell him that he was special, but he was still wild and she didn't dare. "What about your mother? Was she worthless?" He recoiled and she knew that there was a deep wound there.

"Yes," he said and looked away.

She let it go. If he wanted to open up about his past he would. "The new city is looking good," she said, deciding to change the subject.

"It is. We're making a lot of progress. I think we're all a little surprised at how much you have helped us, even though there are still prejudices." As if on cue, Panthro poked his head in the room. Knave scowled in his direction. "I'm not going to hurt her," he snapped.

"Panthro. It's alright. I can handle it," Cheetara said. She watched him leave and returned her focus to the guest. "We've been fighting the Lunataks for a long time, it's going to take a while for both sides to get over it."

"Yeah, well, he'd better get over it soon, because we aren't going anywhere."

* * *

Alluro stared across the vast expanse of desert. This was known as the Desert of Sinking Sands because of Mumm-Ra and his penchant for sinking things beneath the surface. Somewhere down there were countless treasures waiting for the taking. When the Psions built a city here, he was sure that they would be conducting excavations, searching for relics.

He wasn't sure why he'd come. A desire to remind himself that Mumm-Ra was gone, perhaps. The words sounded wrong, even as he stared at the vast crater. A piece of rock from one of the ominous statues that had been inside rested at his feet. Those horrid looking things had frightened him the first time he'd seen them, not that he'd ever have admitted to such. He was glad they were gone. He nudged the stone with his foot and realized it was an eye. Curious that it was still intact, Alluro picked it up.

"Evil in the dark..." a voice echoed through his head, and he dropped the stone immediately. Residual psychic energy no doubt, channelled through his receptive mind. It didn't even make sense. Maybe the statues had seen something in the shadows, and these were its last thoughts. He wasn't afraid, though, certainly wouldn't appear to be so if anyone was looking. He picked it up again. "Evil in the dark... horrors lurk below... life traded for life... cold against heat... she will save us... he will rise again." The stone eye seemed to grow silent, so Alluro pocketed it. The message was even more confusing. She? Who was 'she' and who would rise again? Mumm-Ra? Did the spirits know something? Alarm grew as he considered the possibility that the devil priest was alive. A sudden need to see the corpse arose, even if it meant dealing with those cats.

* * *

"I don't know how you do eet," Roly Poly said, consuming a large morsel of the roast. "Eet's so boring here. So peaceful and quiet. What do you do for fun?"

Tycho shrugged, the small amount of food dwarfed by that on the Graviton's. "Sometimes we race our sheep," he said.

"What's the latest from the capital?" Darius said, deciding to inject some life into the conversation. One or the other of them would have eventually done so themselves, so he didn't feel too bad.

"Loona ees preparing another craft to Third Earth, she's optimistic that resources will soon trickle een. She'd better be right. Thees has cost a lot of money and there's some grumbling about eet. At least eet's kept the moons unified. There's concern Aristarchus wasn't the best choice either," Roly Poly said.

Tycho snorted, agreeing. Luna would figure it out herself eventually, he just hoped it wasn't too late. "Why, what's he done this time?"

"People theenk he's trying to build an army there so he can take over the moons here. Eet would be a good place to build, but he can't hope to have the numbers yet."

"Unless he can win public favour. Certainly, a decisive victory over the Thundercats would prove that he's a superior leader to Luna; she spent years trying to do that. I'm not convinced though. Aristarchus is a smart man, and I have no doubts he has his eyes on Luna's throne, but an army? That's not the way he's going to go about it, unless he finds something powerful on Third Earth that will give him an arms advantage," Tycho said.

"And that's what I told Loona. What she needs ees someone she can trust down there. You should come out of retirement."

"Don't even joke about it. I'm through with politics. Let someone else deal with the backstabbing and ass-kissing. It's not me... Wait, Luna sent you, didn't she." Tycho said it a little more accusingly than he have liked, but he meant it. She'd sent feelers out before, somehow convinced that he would come back.

"She did," the Graviton conceded. "She knows that you're the best suited for the post, and you know eet too. You just won't admit eet."

"Tell Luna it's not happening," Tycho sighed and settled back in his chair.

"I will." They ate the rest of the meal in silence.

* * *

Another wall fell into place and Psychro mopped his brow. Work on the city was going well, a few rudimentary buildings were in place and a vague outline of streets was taking shape. Nestled near the edge of a cliff, near a large volcano, Sky Tomb dominated the skyline, the rest of the buildings were smaller, confined to one or two stories depending on the nature of the building. He was currently assigned to working on the hospital and couldn't wait for his shift to be over.

Psychro was a mechanic by trade, and this kind of manual labour didn't really suit his tastes. The posterior of the pretty young woman with the welding torch on the other hand... Her head jerked in his direction, narrowing her gaze to tell him that she knew exactly what he was thinking and that it wasn't appreciated. Then he caught sight of the faint cyan markings around the eyes. Part Psion. It figured that the woman he'd been ogling would be a mind-reader. He wasn't having good luck with women lately. Chilla had beaten him up twice and the woman he'd slept with before the battle against Mumm-Ra had vanished entirely. No one had ever heard the name Munara Darken before. Who was she?

"Sorry," he said, walking over and offering his hand in apology to the welder. "I just get easily distracted around beautiful women."

"I'm sure you do," she accepted the handshake and her stance seemed to soften. Obviously the apology had made her see that he wasn't such a bad guy after all. "You didn't know that I was part Psion, and it's a little flattering to be thought of that way, I guess. Brae Mindwalker."

"Psychro, of House Myntaello. How about I make it up to you after our shift. The cafeteria doesn't have the best food, but it'll do until we build a proper restaurant," he said.

"It's a date," she replied. And he tried to keep himself from thinking about how he planned on finishing the date.

* * *

Panthro was tinkering with one of the hover boards outside the Lair. Wily Kat had had another unfortunate accident riding it and it needed to be repaired so he could visit the Warrior Maidens. They were having some sort of festival, and had invited the Thunderkittens to take part. It was cultural, and Lion-O insisted that they go, learn more about their neighbours, and express gratitude for being invited. Panthro thought it was just a way to get them out of his hair for a while.

The junior Thundercat saw the visitor before Panthro did, and coughed to get the latter's attention. Panthro groaned inwardly. Another Lunatak. Just what they needed. "What do you want Alluro?" He asked, setting the hover board down and crossing his arms over his chest. That Lunatak's presence was not good news.

"I have to see Mumm-Ra," Alluro replied, seeming agitated. Panthro had no way of knowing, but the gnawing fear that Mumm-Ra wasn't quite dead had grown exponentially in the Psion's mind since leaving the desolate waste. He'd practically run half the journey.

"He's not taking visitors right now, he's kind of dead," Wily Kat piped up, trying to mimic Panthro's 'no-nonsense' stance.

"I know that, at least I think I know that. Fine, I don't have time for this. Let me see Lion-O." The hypnotist shifted restlessly, and he unconsciously touched the rock in his pocket. Panthro gestured at Wily Kat with his head and the boy bolted inside. Alluro wouldn't be setting foot in Cat's Lair without Lion-O's permission unless he got past Panthro.

* * *

Not surprisingly, Lion-O guided Panthro and Alluro up to the conference room. He also, based on Wily Kat's version of events, sent for all available Thundercats and Knave too, so he wouldn't be left alone in their base. Once everyone was present, Alluro nervously recounted the experience with the idol's eye.

"Would you mind if Cheetara tries it? She has some psychic abilities as you well know," Lion-O said, recalling the incident with the telepathy beam. A weapon that had caused havoc with her powers until she'd managed to send a psychic backlash to destroy it. "Perhaps she'll be able to pick up more."

"If I wanted that, I'd go see my own people. There are almost a hundred Psions of varying skill available to me," Alluro snapped, impatient to have his fears put to rest. "But I suppose I'll never get anywhere until I let you." He placed the rock on the table and stepped aside so that Cheetara could reach it.

She cried out, sparking a violent reaction from Panthro. He decked Alluro and moved to contain Knave as well until Lion-O stopped him. Cheetara's pain was subsiding and she steadied herself on Tygra's shoulder. "I sensed hate. Overwhelming hate. And hope too, there was a feeling of hope and hate, mingled together. I saw a woman, cold, alone. And the words 'He will rise again.' I think Alluro might be right. It can only mean Mumm-Ra."

"Then he and I will go investigate," Lion-O said, drawing the legendary Sword of Omens. "The rock should stay here, just in case he's able to draw on power from it."

Alluro sighed heavily. He knew the Thundercats wouldn't steal the rock from him, he just wished they would stop wasting time with their babble and act for once. About the only nice thing was that it was Lion-O going down with him. That Sword of Omens was notorious for defeating Mumm-Ra, and the Lord would distract the demon priest from him if it came down to a fight.

The pair went down several corridors and down several flights of stairs until they reached the resting place of Mumm-Ra. A heavy steel door blocked the way, a Thundercat insignia covering it, and here Lion-O became more cautious. He entered a six digit code into the pad by the door, one that Alluro now knew if he ever needed it, and opened it.

Stale air wafted through the door; this section of the Lair had been little more than a storage area once, now it only stored Mumm-Ra's remains. The lights were on bright, and someone had obviously taken great pains to clean the floor, but the place still seemed dirty and rotten. His prison was vacuum sealed but Alluro still thought he could smell the scent of decay, a smell that clung to Mumm-Ra like a second skin. The demon priest hadn't moved, didn't look like he could move if he wanted to.

Lion-O looked at him questioningly, as though asking if their thoughts were the same. Alluro doubted very much that Lion-O was considering how he'd put Alluro between him and any blasts if Mumm-Ra did arise. "I guess that answers that," the feline eventually said, "we'd better report to the others before they start to worry."

If such things comforted the Thundercats, they were fools. Alluro trusted his psychic instincts far more than he did his own eyes. Something was wrong here, and Mumm-Ra wasn't dead.

* * *

Robear Bowan looked in confusion at the shrivelled body that served as a room mate in the cramped cell he was in. He had been out of the Berbil village, delivering for his cousin Roberto's taco stand when the demon had risen from the ground and taken him away. That woman frightened him deep in his servos. The body was clearly that of a warrior maiden, based mostly on the clothes she wore, but he'd never seen one that looked like this. He wasn't sure, but humans didn't dry out quite like that. There was another woman with him, another warrior maiden, but she was too terrified to speak. Her cheeks were hollow, and her skin taut against her bones.

Giving up for the moment on the woman, he waddled up to the energy field blocking his exit and probed it gently with one hand. Although the robotic bears didn't really feel pain, the sensation that arced through him was enough to assure him that he didn't want to experience it again.

"Don't rush it," an old woman on the other side of the barrier said.

"Who are you?" the Berbil asked, curious, although its robotic voice was difficult to understand. The woman chuckled and slipped into a coughing fit.

"No one important. I'm being used up just like the rest of you." She stopped so abruptly that Robear Bowan wondered if she'd fallen asleep. "A worthless shell to be used until there's nothing left to use."

* * *

It was practically nightfall by the time Alluro and Knave returned to New Lunis. Sentries waiting for them told them to speak to Aristarchus immediately. Knave snapped off a sarcastic insult at the sentries, one that Alluro agreed with but wouldn't have bothered saying.

The governor of Dark Side was in his office within Sky Tomb, as they expected. A large Darkling and a smaller Psion stood on either side of the doorway, blocking their entrance. While the Darkling kept watch on the duo, the Psion telepathically informed Aristarchus of their arrival. "He's expecting you," the Psion finally said, opening the door.

The office wasn't particularly lavish but had a few chairs, some finery hanging from the walls, and a thin carpet on the floor. It seemed cramped, but that wasn't surprising given that it had been designed with the diminutive Luna in mind. The man himself set down some papers he was reading and regarded the two of them cooly. "You were both gone for a long time. And at Cat's Lair too, from what I gather," he said. His voice was crisp but with a faint nasal noise, he had a way of talking that made even compliments sound insulting.

"I had permission," Knave said.

"I'm aware of that, and your commanding officer has been disciplined for it. And you, Alluro? You requested permission to go to the Desert of Sinking Sands. Cat's Lair is not en route."

"No, sir, it isn't." Alluro wanted to reach across the desk and throttle Aristarchus. Was he insinuating that the two of them had been delivering information to the Thundercats? Alluro hated the Thundercats with a passion, he would never betray the Lunataks for them. "I decided I wanted to see if Mumm-Ra was still dead. He is." He shot Knave a glance, warning him not to say anything about the stone or the visions.

"I see. In the future all such visits must come through me. We aren't at war with them yet, but I want to regulate all contact with them. Is that understood?" Aristarchus asked, leaning forward. Both grumbled but agreed. "Good. Then you may leave."

* * *

Singing voices greeted the Thunderkittens as they approached the tree top kingdom that was home to the warrior maidens. Neither Wily Kit nor Wily Kat knew the tune, but found it uplighting nonetheless. It was a song speaking of the joys of life, of the joy in watching a sapling grow into a mighty tree, and how this was a metaphor for how they wanted to live their own lives. It had been explained to them that the Festival of Trees was one of their most sacred times, and rarely seen by outsiders. Willa had tried to explain that this was a time to give thanks to the trees that they used in every aspect of their existence. They used its wood to build their homes, weapons and other accoutrements. They relied on it to conceal them from their foes and protect them from the elements. They used the wood to keep warm at night, and the fruit that grew from some of them to nourish themselves.

Frankly, the talk made the duo bored, but they were polite enough to feign interest. Queen Willa herself met them at the edge of their village, she was resplendent in an outfit of green, carrying an ornately carved staff. "Welcome to our village, Wily Kat and Wily Kit, make yourself at home," she said. There was an odd tone to her voice, but neither cub could put their finger on it, so they dismissed it for the present.

"The village looks great," Wily Kat said, following Willa further in. Lights hung from each tree, and a giant bonfire dominated the small clearing. It was around this fire, with their backs to the flames, that the maidens were singing. Their eyes were cast skyward, focussing on the tree tops. "And that looks even better!"

Willa chuckled as she followed the boy's eyes to the large table that was covered with food. Fruits, meat, and bread from the Berbil village. The succulent aromas were mingling with the burning wood smell to tantalize and tempt the Thunderkittens. "We'll be eating soon," she said. She took her place in the fire circle and joined the song.

Following the song was a brief prayer to the woodland spirits, thanking them for the past year, and then the food was served. Wily Kat felt that this was a kind of culture he could put up with.

While everyone ate, Willa told the legend of the first warrior maidens, as they fled the mountains against a fearsome band of raiders. The men chased them into the forest where the trees turned flesh and destroyed the invaders. Ever since that day, she explained, the warrior maidens had made the forest their home and defended it with their lives.

Other stories were told, mostly along similar veins, of woodland spirits coming to the aid of the maidens, protecting them from the evils of men. Wily Kat was about to ask how they reproduced if men were evil, but received a sharp glare from his sister.

The night grew late, and the stories turned from legends to more modern tales. Stories of great hunts, and times when they felt like the trees were helping them. Wily Kit nudged her brother and pointed in Willa's direction. She was distracted, sitting quietly by herself. The staff she'd been carrying was now cradled at her feet. The two kittens padded over to her and settled on either side. "What's the matter?" Wily Kit asked, placing her hand on the queen's shoulder. Willa was a friend of the Thundercats, and anything they could do to help they would.

"It's probably nothing, but two of our women went out to gather fruit and never returned. I can't help wondering what's happened to them. I knew them both well, they were fine warriors and nothing should have been able to take them both on, except maybe the Mutants," she said.

"Mutants?" Wily Kat gasped, somewhat surprised. In all the commotion of making peace with the Lunataks and Mumm-Ra's defeat, they had forgotten about the other group on Third Earth. "We'll mention it to Lion-O when we get back, and help you look for them," he said hastily.

"Yeah. If those Mutants have done anything like that..." Wily Kit's voice trailed off and Willa couldn't help but feel comforted. The two were young and eager, much like she had been at that age. Of course the Thundercats would help, though it was equally possible there was a logical explanation for their disappearance that didn't involve danger.

"Thank you, I'll start our search in the morning. I hope it's nothing."

* * *

Zanaya screamed in frustration, scattering pillows and blankets in every direction. Why wouldn't the child let her sleep? For the last three hours she had felt it kicking and writhing in her womb. To make matters worse its psionic tie with her was going haywire, feelings of frustration flowing from child to mother. It wanted out, and it wanted out now. A sharp pain in her side made her wonder suddenly whether Thunderian children had their claws while in the womb; it certainly felt like this one, only a quarter Thunderian, did.

"Calm yourself," she heard Lura say. It was impossible. Lura, Mystan's apprentice, was in the room adjacent, not in Zanaya's. Telepathy, she remembered suddenly. Lura was showing signs that she would be an excellent telepath. "Empathy works both ways," Lura's voice continued, and Zanaya could almost imagine the woman sitting on the edge of her bed. "While you can read the baby's emotions, it is picking up on yours. That's the main reason you aren't sleeping right now.

"So it's my fault?" Zanaya sounded more irritated than she'd intended. She wasn't thinking clearly right now, and knew from the stories she'd heard that it was true.

"In part, yes. I can help you." She couldn't help it. The voice was soothing, full of kindness and compassion. It was a trait in Lura that Mystan didn't like, but at present Mystan could jump off of Sky Tomb for all she cared. Zanaya felt Lura's amusement. "I don't think Mystan will be doing that any time soon. This may be a little disorienting for a minute, but I think it will work."

Zanaya felt the telepath moving through her mind, moving with precision towards the region of the brain where the link to the baby was. Mentally she touched the link, sending waves of calm and peace down it. The sensation was akin to sudden numbness enveloping her head, but it felt good. There was no more discomfort, and the baby indeed settled down almost immediately. "Thank you," she whispered.

"You're welcome," came Lura's reply, as she slipped back into her own body again.

* * *

The rock sat on a shelf in Alluro's room, about as far from the bed as he could put it, and was covered in a heavy cloth. The hypnotist knew that the cloth wouldn't block any telepathic transmissions, but it made him feel better knowing that the thing wasn't actively 'looking' at him. The Thundercats had been reluctant to let him leave the building with such a potentially powerful thing in his grasp, but their keen sense of honour prevented them from taking it by force. He wouldn't have hesitated if the roles had been reversed.

He cast another long glance at the shrouded eye and changed out of his dusty everyday clothes and slipped into a thin nightgown that was light as a feather. It was extremely comfortable to wear, but he'd never let anyone see him in it. Tug Mug had bought it for him as a gag gift after hearing him complain about being too warm at night, and had intentionally found the most hideous nightgown he could find. Little dancing Berbils dotted the outfit on a drab beige background. But it was comfortable.

Alluro was about to get into bed when he changed his mind. He walked over to where the strange stone sat and turned it around so that the eye was pointing away from his bed. With that settled he climbed in and drifted into a restless slumber; visions of Mumm-Ra in his head.

* * *

Bright and early the next morning, while the first shift of Lunataks was beginning their construction duties, the Thundercats were setting out from Cat's Lair to see what they could find out about the missing warrior women.

The Thunderkittens, eager to be of service, joined Lion-O and Cheetara in the search, while Panthro and Tygra held down the fort in Cat's Lair. They would start at the grove that the maidens had been heading for and backtrack towards the village, hopefully meeting up with Willa en route.

What they didn't know is that they would be too late to save either one. The surviving maiden, a once robust warrior known as Lexa, had watched her best friend shrivel up at that demon's touch, and had felt that same touch herself. The strange spirit seemed to be learning and using herself and the Berbil as its teachers. She was weak, barely enough strength to raise her head now, or swallow when Robear Bowan offered her water. Her skin was stretched so tight on her bones she expected to see through it.

All the while the demon moved around the small series of rooms, sometimes talking to itself, and sometimes to the Lunar woman. That one was confusing to Lexa. She was evil, of that there was little doubt, and yet there was a sense of compassion for the prisoners. Whatever the Lunatak was doing, it wasn't entirely of her own free will.

She felt the spirit drift into the cell again. It circled her once and then stopped before her eyes. "They're looking for you," the being said, it's voice deep and threatening. "They'll never find you. We're too far away. Even if they do, it will be too late. One more touch and your life will be over. But perhaps I should let you live long enough to see my next prey. Maybe it will be someone you know. Another friend, perhaps, a sister, maybe it will be a small child. Would you like that? A child to play with? Your robotic friend here doesn't have much flavour, but maybe a young one will."

She tried to summon the strength to shout, to curse, or attack, but could barely shed a tear, for the sake of the next victim. Slowly the spirit settled around her shoulders, drawing the last of her life energy from her. In the corner Robear Bowan said a prayer for her.

* * *

Luna looked up sharply at the intrusion to her office. There was the official throne room, but she rarely used it, preferring the simplicity of this room. Amok was settled by the fireplace, alert and staring with beady eyes at the intruder. Roly Poly stepped closer and gave him some beer-flavoured candy, placating him almost instantly. "Well?" she asked, almost relieved to have a distraction herself. The Mutants of Plundarr were complaining about a prisoner being held on the Ice Moon, and wanted her to release him. Coming up with a polite way of rejecting them didn't come easy to her.

"There's no change, I've done my best. He likes his farm too much, even eef a part of him wants to go Third Earth," the Graviton said. He wasn't offered a seat due to his bulk, and made a mental note to send her a new heavy duty chair to replace the one he'd broken earlier in the week.

"He's related to me, alright, stubborn as anything. Some day he'll realize that it isn't peace that he wants, he needs to be in charge. I can see it in his eyes, because I saw it in my eyes at one point. Remember that day, Amok?" she said. The brute looked up and grinned at her. He probably didn't, but liked to see his mistress happy. She'd been close, then, to giving up the crown. Four assassination attempts in a week, a pair of wars going on and a riot in the capital. But then she'd realized that despite all that, she was still standing. She was the best candidate for the job. And so would Tycho, when he smartened up. "Very well, you've pleased me Roly Poly, I'll summon you when I have further use for you." He bowed as much as his gut would allow, and left.

* * *

The Thundercats met Willa and a trio of warrior women along a dirt road about a half mile from the orchard. They were standing by a section of ground that looked as though a hole had been dug and subsequently refilled, inspecting something when Lion-O and the others approached. Willa rose from her crouch and displayed a basket. "Is that from your women?" he asked.

"It is. We found their trail easily enough and it ended here. This basket was here, on the edge of the disturbed area. What do you make of it?" she asked.

The Lord of the Thundercats looked around in confusion and probed the soil with his sword. "Nothing seems out of the ordinary. The ground seems a little loose, but not unreasonably so. I'd suggest an ambush, but there's no sign of a fight."

"No. Two women like that wouldn't have gone down without some indication. There are no other footprints around here either. I was just thinking of digging into the earth to see if they got buried."

"We'll help, it will make the work go faster," Lion-O suggested. They had no shovels on them, so the kittens returned to the Lair, which wasn't that far away, to get some. In the meantime Lion-O, Cheetara and the maidens started moving dirt by hand. They dug a fair ways more once the shovels arrived, but found no evidence of anything other than earthworms.

"We'll check out Castle Plundarr and talk to the Lunataks. If either of them had anything to do with this, we'll find out," Lion-O said, when they finally called a halt to their excavations.

"Thank you, Lion-O. As always, your help is greatly appreciated."

* * *

Psychro's jaw still smarted from where Red Eye had hit him. It had been completely unprovoked too, but it proved the rumours were true. The Ice/Psion hybrid had heard that Red Eye had lost what little sense of humour he had following the death of his daughter, so when his immediate response to being told that he would be working under Chilla was "great, and I don't even have to buy her dinner first" Red Eye had decked him. Only the intervention of Brae had prevented him from retaliating.

As he adjusted the landing strut of a damaged fighter, brought in by a not very skilled pilot, he considered that the incident also helped prove his theory. He fancied himself an expert in relationships, studying people and the way they interacted. It helped when trying to gauge if a woman was playing hard to get and when she was simply not interested. Red Eye and Chilla, if his hunches were right, were at that delicate stage just before one would ask the other out. The way they talked when the other was in the room, subtle body language and stolen glances. They would be dating within a week if he was right.

The socket wrench slipped from the bolt he was working on and he bent to retrieve it. They wouldn't last, in the end. Both were too old school to consider cross-racial dating for long. Despite their similarities, the old ways were too deep. Seven months, tops. However, this would only be good for Chilla. She'd been moody around him ever since he'd turned his attentions elsewhere. Two beatings from her was enough to convince him that she wasn't worth the effort, and it clearly rankled her. The relationship might even soften her temper, at least until it ended. He made a mental note to avoid her once it did.

* * *

Unbeknownst to him, Chilla was keeping an eye on Psychro as he worked. Several of the crescent fighters had been damaged by a careless pilot, and she had been charged with assembling a proper crew to repair them. She probably wouldn't even have chosen Psychro if he wasn't so blasted good at his job. He was good at other things too if the stink of sex on his body was an indicator.

She wasn't sure why that bothered her at all, really, other than it showed a lack of respect for his duties. Between the stink and the rumpled clothes that had clearly been worn the previous day, she was sure that he'd literally just finished up with whatever floozie he'd been with and come straight to the job site. Late. Back in her days he would have been publicly punished for such disrespect. But there was something deeper, a nugget that she would barely accept. Her pride was stung by the way he'd given up on the chase just as she was starting to come around, preferring the comforts of an easy lay to her. Another day or two and she would have been willing to go out with him and possibly... No. It was for the best this way. Let him catch whatever viruses these women had, it would serve the bastard right.

As he turned, glancing in her direction, she saw the black eye that was starting to form there. Red Eye had given him something that he deserved, and Chilla figured that she owed him a thank you. Perhaps she would invite him out to dinner.

* * *

Sitting across the desk from Aristarchus were the Thundercats Lion-O and Wily Kit, and they were frankly boring him. He wouldn't have even seen them at all if it weren't for the desire to keep the tenuous peace between them a little longer. They'd arrived a few moments ago, talking of missing warrior women, as though he cared what happened to the humans that inhabited this planet. He barely even wanted this planet, there was no real power here. What he wanted were the moons. "I assure you I know nothing of these warrior maidens," he said tiredly.

"Then maybe you could help us find them. In the interests of fellowship, perhaps you could loan us a telepath or one of your Darklings; they might be able to see if there's anything underground that we missed," Lion-O said.

With cold detachment Aristarchus stared back at the Lord of the Thundercats. "I'm afraid I have none I can spare. We're rather busy with our own interests to worry about some primitives," he said.

Lion-O appeared startled by the outright rejection, but managed to force the anger down. The whelp beside him was less skilled. "After all we've done for you?" she blurted.

"Come along, Wily Kit," Lion-O said, placing a hand on her shoulder, "we'll gain nothing more here today."

* * *

When Cheetara and Wily Kat returned to the Lair, their report was no less disheartening. The Mutants knew nothing of the missing women, and a hasty inspection of the dungeons revealed no recent activity at all. It was a mystery to the Thundercats as to what had transpired. More disturbing, when they visited the Berbil village on the way back was learning of a disappearance there too. Between these incidents and the stone eye that Alluro had found, things were very unsettling for the young lord of the Thundercats. Lion-O only hoped they could solve the puzzle before anything else happened.


	2. Chapter 2

Return To Power by Jonathan J. Prideaux  
Chapter 2

"By Jaga, not another one," Lion-O said, slamming his fist into the console. In the last month and a half there had been over a dozen reports of people going missing; six Warrior Maidens, three Bulkins, one Berbil, two Wollos, one Tuska, and now one of the unicorns. And there was no way of knowing whether there were others or not. Had woodland creatures disappeared? Birds? Fish? Insects? The Thundercats explored every report, while keeping in frequent contact with those who were isolated, like the Snow Man of Hook Mountain and Hachiman. He had even resorted to calling in Mandora to help investigate.

Furthermore, he'd forbidden any Thundercat to venture out alone just in case one of them was next. About the only benefit if one of them was captured was that he would be able to use the Sword of Omens to learn more about their enemy. Aristarchus had been too dismissive of their concerns, and the Lunataks were known to employ slave labour, which made them the most likely threat. But without proof, he couldn't justify searching their land for the missing persons.

Each disappearance, when the location was known, had one thing in common; the earth had been disturbed. Tygra and Panthro were speaking with Mole Master at present to see if he knew anything.

"Don't worry, Lion-O, we'll get whoever's behind this, snarf, snarf," his former nanny piped up, perched on his tail. Snarf was right, of course. The Thundercats would figure this out because Thundercats never gave up. It was their way, a means of survival. His re-assuring smile seemed to placate the other's fears enough that he returned to his work.

* * *

Mystan was finding it very difficult to think with Zanaya's hands wrapped around his throat. She'd called him in to her room to announce that she wanted the child removed from her belly surgically rather than waiting for nature to take its course. "If Lunis is going to throw every complication in the book at me, I'd just as soon eliminate some of them," she had argued vehemently. He didn't see why she was so determined. She had also been promised by the goddess that she would live through the birth so that the infant could harass her more. Of course, he'd accidentally mentioned that he thought she was overreacting, hence the hands around his throat and her sarcastic shouts of "Does this look like overreacting to you?"

"Alright. I'll get the doctors immediately," he said, finally getting her to release her grip. There were a dozen other things to get ready for, not the least of which was ensuring the father of the child was nowhere around. The only reason Zanaya still lived was because she was carrying Knave's child, and he had sworn to kill her once it was born. Of course, by the same token, Mystan planned on killing Knave once the psychic link between himself and Zanaya was ended.

* * *

"Mmm... Succulent," the spirit whispered, circling its latest capture. Over the last while it had learned to moderate the draining of its victims, finding that it could gain more power if it did so than by taking the lives in one gulp. The unicorn whickered and pawed futilely at the incorporeal mist. "Such life, such energy. You will be a special treat." The spirit darted in again, touching the unicorn's flank but not taking any energy this time.

"You shouldn't play your food," Shade said. The spirit glanced in her direction and seemed to scowl. The Lunatak woman was getting more vocal, she needed to be taught a lesson. The spirit slipped back out of the cell block and coated her body, turning her back into her younger form.

"What's the matter, Shade? You used to be fun," now that the spirit was part of her she could feel the hint of malice and cruelty. "You haven't been the same since... I know what it is, you miss the carnal pleasures of Psychro, don't you." Her face burned at the memory and the disgust of knowing the spirit had been present. "Yes, I think that's it. You yearn for the touch of a man, don't you. Well, then, the pickings are slim here but... You. Bulkin. If you have sex with this woman I will let you go free." The spirit forced Shade to walk closer to the cell, slowly undoing the zipper at her neck.

"Never! You are evil, and will never let me leave here alive in order to keep your secrets," the Bulkin stammered, managing to sound brave and noble. Angrily the spirit detached itself from Shade, causing the older woman to crumple to the ground, leaving her to redress herself.

The spirit whipped through the cell and wrapped around the Bulkin instead. "You dare disobey me? I may not be able to control you like I can her, but I can make your death excrutiating!" the Bulkin howled loud and long as the spirit went to work.

* * *

The news from Mole Master wasn't going to improve things. After a lengthy discussion with the leader of the Mole people, following a short skirmish, Tygra and Panthro had learned that they were in the dark, just as the Thundercats were. To make matters worse, two of their people had also been taken. None of it added up to Tygra. What was the connection between all these people disappearing? What possible use could someone have for taking so many people?

He'd found that he was losing sleep at night now too, every creak made him jump, thinking that he was about to be abducted, and based on the worn expressions of the rest of his comrades, they were experiencing similar. The rolling plains breezed by and he wondered how he was going to explain this news to Lion-O.

* * *

Everything was in the hospital in the city of New Lunis. It was barely a building at all, to be honest, but they had made its construction a priority, and it was almost fully operational. The doctors were ready, Zanaya was ready and, most importantly, Mystan was ready. Psion pregnancies carried more complications than most, as children often were born with some basic powers. In the womb, the mother could prevent the use of these powers, but once the babe was free this was not the case. Whenever possible, a Psion priest would be present to place mental blocks around the baby's psionic centre of the brain, loosening it as the child grew up.

Mystan sat in a chair next to the operating table where Zanaya lay, mentally preparing himself for the taxing procedure. He'd only done this once, and he remembered being exhausted for two days after. A telepath sat next to Zanaya, Lura being away on another assignment, to try and block the pain centres of the woman's brain and keep her unconscious during the surgery. A Psion doctor, a telekinetic that Mystan had only seen once before, gestured to the high priest that he was ready to begin. Mystan nodded and watched as the first incision was made.

* * *

Psychro ducked around the corner and slipped into the rough wooden building that the Graviton delegation had established. Located with a terrific view out one window of the cliffs, it was becoming a favourite place for people to hang out when they were off duty. It was also a place where he was reasonably certain he wouldn't be found by certain people. The 'Six Sticks Bar &amp; Grill' was named after a Graviton captain who had been killed in the battle with Mumm-Ra. Once they'd returned to the city, his people had insisted to Prince Tycho, then in charge of the colony, to build a shrine in his honour. It was every Graviton's dream to have a bar named after them.

Inside were the usual assortment of characters for mid-day; the early morning shift, the slackers, and the late shift workers getting an early jump on their work day. Ninety-nine percent were either male or Graviton women. In fact, the one non-Graviton woman was a royal Lunar woman who looked like she was lost. Psychro took a seat at a table near the back where he could keep an eye on the door. Ignoring his apparent desire to be alone and inconspicuous, Tug Mug bounded over to him with a pair of beers in his hand. "Dreenk?" Tug Mug asked, offering one of the sloshing mugs. The foam had a decidedly purple colour, which told Psychro that they'd been experimenting with their flavours again.

"Please," he replied, gratefully downing the liquid in one long gulp. It tasted faintly of berries, not wholly unpleasant, but not something he looked forward to trying again.

"I take eet you're hiding from someone? Whose woman have you been sleeping weeth?" Tug Mug asked, procuring another three beers, two for himself and one for Psychro.

"No one, that I know of. But a friend of mine who works at the hospital tells me that Brae was in asking about a strange infection she'd gotten, co-incidentally less than a week after she and I... anyway, the point is I was given the heads up that she's looking for me," Psychro said, jumping as the door opened, and relieved to see it was only a pair of Darklings.

"First time that's happened?" Tug Mug asked.

"Yeah. I've always thought I was blessed by the gods. I mean, look at this body, every woman wants it, I've got the sexual prowess of ten men, I've only managed to spawn one bastard kid, and until now there've been no surprises down there," Psychro consumed a second beer and slammed the mug back down. What would 'Karis say if she found out about this one? Probably tell him that it was about time.

"Een that case, you're going to want to use the back door. That looks like a woman on a mission," he said, pointing out the window to a woman crossing the street, making a beeline for the bar.

"Thanks, Tug Mug, I owe you one," Psychro said, staggering out the door. As he watched the hybrid flee, Tug Mug relished the thought of calling in that favour.

* * *

He was sprinting down the hall when he suddenly decided that he didn't want to anymore. Knave didn't want to move, period, which was very bizarre. His mental link with Zanaya, created automatically when they'd first conceived, told him that the link was about to be severed, and that meant the baby was being born and he wanted to be present... except that he didn't. What he suddenly wanted to do was enter a room along this hall that he knew was Mystan's bedroom. But Zanaya wouldn't be in there, so why did he want to go there now?

The door opened and he saw Lura sitting on a couch, left hand pressed to the side of her head and eyes closed in concentration. He walked closer to her, but found himself unwilling to actually say anything that might disturb her. Finally she opened her eyes and rose to meet him. "Welcome, Knave of House Iespyk," she greeted him formally. "I can tell that you're wondering why you're here and not at Zanaya's bedside." She tapped her forehead and he remembered something about her being a telepath. "Very good. I'm here to prevent a confrontation. You see, Mystan is in there with Zanaya and he would be unable to defend himself if you went in there right now, and I care too much about him to let you take advantage of his weakened state."

Lura caught the innuendo that immediately went through Knave's head, including an exaggerated mental image of herself naked. That was the problem with telepathy. Reading thoughts was easy, filtering out the useful from the chaff was tough, she actually found manipulating the mind easier, convincing it to do things that it wouldn't have done otherwise. "Not like that, though he has thought about it once or twice. I love him like a father."

A wave of hatred flooded through the mental link, and she staggered back against it, butting her knees against the couch. Forcibly regaining control of herself Lura moved closer again. "Right. You don't like your father. That's one of the reasons I want to help you, you've never really been loved. Your father despised you, your mother tried to love you but was repulsed by you, your siblings hated you, and your grandmother... I see now, you dared to hope that things would be different with her. That despite her old ways she would find it in her heart to love you; it didn't happen did it? Then there's your friend Cameo, you thought you could trust him and he repays you by abandoning you on Third Earth. Which brings me to Zanaya. Truthfully, I don't blame you for wanting to hurt her, she deserves it for what she did to you. For what it's worth, she feels no remorse for her actions. But Mystan likes her; she's family, so I can't let you."

She paused to let her words sink in and to scan his mind to see if they were having any effect. Lura had learned long ago how to find the weak spots in people, and Knave's were obvious. He'd been unloved all through life, so of course he'd fallen for the first woman to say she loved him. But Lura had also read Zanaya's mind. That one was wicked, and Lura had nearly hit her herself. "You don't want to hear it, but I pity you. That wound hurt so much. Mystan told me to stop you from getting to the infirmary in any way, so I'm going to give you a chance. Leave New Lunis. Run far away and never come back. If you go far enough, Mystan will forget about you and leave you alone." She knew he wouldn't, but hoped regardless.

"No? Fine then, I'll stop you another way. It's funny, people underestimate telepaths, because we aren't as flashy as the telekinetics or the pyrokinetics, but we're dangerous. I could have you decide to kill yourself." She focussed on him again and his hands went to the icepick at his belt, sliding the blade out and pointing at his heart. An accusation ran through his head, telling her that he didn't think she had the killer's instinct, an accusation that rang too true in her heart. Had he been able to move he would have flashed a triumphant smile. He'd seen the doubt in her eyes, so there was no point in denying it. "You're right, I don't like killing unnecessarily. But Mystan does, and he will kill you if the two of you ever fight, and I feel for you enough to do this for your own good."

She stepped close to him, close enough to smell his breakfast on his breath, and placed a hand on his head. Her power seemed to come more easily when there was physical contact, and what she was about to attempt would take a lot, especially given his Cheetah heritage that resisted psychic assaults. But slowly she reached into the brain and convinced him to run, and not stop running until nightfall. Lura also placed a thought that there was nothing left for him in New Lunis, and that he never wanted to return. As she took several steps back, she relinquished her initial hold on him, hoping that it all worked and that she wouldn't wind up impaled on his icepick. But he sheathed his weapon and ran, only when she sensed he was out of the building did she collapse on the couch.

* * *

Psychro's day was going from bad to worse. Having escaped Brae's attention momentarily, though with her telepathy he suspected that wouldn't last forever, he then proceeded to collide with an Icewalker nobleman who had called him 'father.' It was a horrifying thought. As he'd told Tug Mug, as far as he knew there was only one little Psychro running around, and she was safely on the Graviton moon. He didn't ordinarily sleep with Gravitons, but he'd foolishly made a promise to sleep with her sight unseen. But now another one? Certainly he'd slept with many an Icewalker, though he didn't think any children of those unions would be this old.

Worse became more so when he recognized the man standing before him. Nitro of House Iespyk, Chilla and Ren's only son. The same Ren whom Psychro had tried to look like in order to win Chilla's heart. Nitro too seemed to be coming to the same conclusion, unfortunately. "Psychro of some house not worth mentioning. Chilla has told me of you." His eyes narrowed. Nitro was a powerful man within Icewalker society, his house, technically led by Chilla, was the most influential on the entire moon, and Psychro didn't really want to cross him. "So you're the one who wanted so badly to bond with my mother, eh? You're lucky I have another errand to run, or I'd show you what happens when someone steps beyond their class. I suggest you keep running." Nitro picked Psychro up off the ground and shoved him in the opposite direction.

"She should have been with me first, then she'd never have had you," Psychro spat, thoroughly ticked off at the physical assault. Nitro paused mid-stride and turned.

"What did you say?" Nitro asked slowly, dangerously.

"I said that you'd have never have been born if I had my way, and we'd all be better off for it." Psychro didn't know when to stop when his temper boiled over. Usually Psikaris was there to rein him in, but not this time.

"I see. Perhaps my errands can wait then." Nitro charged at the hybrid.

* * *

There was something disconcerting going on, there was something just slightly amiss, but Mystan couldn't quite put his finger on it. Sliding his mind through Zanaya's belly and latching on to the as yet unborn child's mind had been easy, but it felt wrong. He began questing through the child's brain searching for the psychic nerve centres that he would need to block off and realized what the problem was.

Typically a Psion brain had a unique section that housed psychic energy, but in Zanaya's child it was different. It was there but... he recoiled as he touched it with his mind. It was freezing cold. That shouldn't have been true regardless of the birth origins. A dim remembrance tickled the back of his skull, a colleague had mentioned that a particularly powerful pyrokinetic had possessed a slightly warm psychic region. Could this be something similar? Was the diluted Icewalker blood enough to cause such a thing?

He felt the child's link to its mother being severed and knew he had to work quickly. Some children accidentally manifested abilities right out of the womb and, if he knew the goddess that was tormenting his niece like he did, the child doubtless would if the blocks were not in place.

He erected barriers all around the psychic region, locking them in place through sheer willpower, and then inspected his work. A flash of cold touched one of his barriers and dissipated, reassuring him that they were working, and that meant he could return his consciousness to his body again.

* * *

Mystan's eyes snapped open and he looked around to make sure everything was in order. The Psion doctor and his Graviton assistant were tending to the incision they'd made, while Zanaya lay still unconscious. She would probably remain so for another hour until the telepath next to her felt she could cope with the flood of sensations. Writhing in the arms of another Psion was a little baby girl who looked distinctly unlike her mother. Mystan rose unsteadily to his feet and examined the child and was surprised to see that it leaned very close, appearance wise, to the father's side of her family tree. Pale blue skin, showing just a hint of purple, covered her body with a thin smattering of black spots down her back. Only the light gray hair and a pale cyan strip of colouring across the eyes reminded him of Zanaya at all. "See that they're both taken care of," he said sternly to all present. He needed to rest, recharge his psychic stores, and see how Lura had coped with Knave.

* * *

"You've resisted me, Shade," the spirit said, having transformed her back into her younger self. The spirit only did this when it wanted a more personal and mind to mind conversation. This was something it didn't want the prisoners to know about, for whatever reason. She was starting to get used to the creature's habits, and had learned to dread 'that' tone in its voice. "I offered you life and you spurn my gifts, seeking to find a way to destroy me." Her skin felt like it was writhing, though a cursory glance assured her it wasn't. The spirit was agitated and very angry. "I will punish you."

"You still need me," she stammered, the spirit forcing her mouth closed even as the words came out. The people in the cells didn't know what was happening and looked on with fear. The ones who had been there longer had seen similar performances but were still hopelessly confused. This was also the form Shade took when fetching more victims for her master, and they pitied whomever might be joining them.

"Do I, now?" the question cast doubt in Shade's mind. "I could easily switch into one of these here. Their minds are weak and would succumb to my charms. I might destroy a few more minds before I find the right one, but I could. Besides, my power grows stronger, I am nearly able to create a shell of my own. And then, who do you think my next target will be? I will hunt your father down so that you can watch me take his life. Don't think yourself invincible yet, Shade. Now come, I've found a perfect test of your loyalties."

Reluctantly Shade wafted through the densely packed soil, following the spirit's orders, seeking out new prey.

* * *

Psychro stood triumphant, if a little bloodied. Nitro was indeed a formidable opponent, and on most other days he probably would have won, but Nitro had spent the last week on a space shuttle and had lost some of his edge. Conversely, Psychro was feeling antsy and needed a good fight to redeem himself. Nitro was sprawled face down in the dirt of a small side street, surrounded by a crowd who had decided to watch the fight. Though it had only last ten minutes or so, his body felt like it had been an hour. There were bruises forming, and a cut across his chin that was dripping profusely. But he hadn't felt this good in a long time. Onlookers cheered him on and showered him in adulation.

There was no fear of the authorities, these fights were relatively commonplace, and were generally considered to have been between two willing participants. Each bore the marks that were punishment enough. Potentially, Nitro might demand a re-match at a later date, and he knew he should be prepared for that eventuality.

Unseen by him, until it was too late, Brae broke through the crowd and approached him. She took him by the arm and dragged him into an unfinished building nearby. The onlookers, many aware of his reputation, hooted and hollered at him assuming that she was rewarding his victory.

"You've been avoiding me," she snapped when they were finally away from prying eyes. She pushed him down on to a toolbox that had been left behind and crouched in front of him.

"No I haven't," he replied. A hard slap across the face sent blood flying. She jerked his jaw so that his eyes met her own. "This is why I swore to never date a telepath," he grumbled.

"So you've heard the story then. Are you going to explain yourself, or do I need to poke around some more in your thick head?" she relinquished her grip and wiped her bloody hand on his vest. Then she sighed and began attending to his cut.

"Okay, you're right. I heard from a friend that you might have caught something, and were looking for me. I've never had something like this happen. I'm sorry, I panicked. I never meant to hurt you," he explained. "Scan my brain if you want to check my sincerity."

"I'd rather not," she said at length. "I've heard too many stories about your prowess and your escapades to do that. I'm told that there at least thirty women in New Lunis who claim to have slept with you. I'm thinking of starting a fan club."

"Don't bother, there's already one," he said, regretting it even as he spoke the words. She slapped him again. He didn't understand why, he thought women liked the truth.

"For the record, there's something your source didn't tell you. I didn't catch it from you, but I had been worried that I'd passed it on to you. I've had this for years and thought it was under control. Gods, I was such an idiot to think that you were anything other than a sleazy bastard who just wanted to get laid. I actually managed to convince myself that you cared about me and that we might have a future. I even cared when I realized that I had a fresh outbreak and that you might be at risk. Now, I suddenly hope you do have it. I hope that your penis rots and falls off, because at the rate you're going someone's going to cut it off if it doesn't." She stood and he dumbly stared at her. He was trying to use his psionic persuasion powers to calm her, but it didn't seem to be working. "Goodbye Psychro."

He watched her go. Another woman walking out of his life. He felt a little saddened by her departure, another woman whose heart he'd broken and there was no way to repair it. On the other hand, she still had a really nice rear, and he was glad he'd gotten his hands on it. She cast him one last dirty look and left the building.

* * *

The land rolled by him as Knave went, he'd tired after a while of running and allowed himself to walk at a more leisurely pace. He wasn't sure why he'd been running like that, only that he desperately wanted to get away from New Lunis. That place and the people in it were dead to him. He didn't need Zanaya or Chilla or any of them. Lunataks had proven to be nothing but corrupting people in his experiences there. So what if his child was there, they would only grow up to loathe him and betray him. It was in her blood.

If his memory served him correctly, this region was known as the void. He'd studied the map of Third Earth carefully, and dimly recalled something about strong winds in this area. There plenty of shipwrecks here, and in the distance a large opening in the rock that resembled a giant mouth. A fiendish howl filled the air and he dropped to a fighting stance instinctively. Suddenly the 'mouth' began sucking in anything in its line of sight, which thankfully did not include Knave at that moment. Large pieces of lumber, sand and rock flew by, though, and vanished within that gaping maw. It was during this distraction that he realized there was an old woman standing behind him. She appeared to be glaring at a bizarre patch of mist hanging beside her.

Whatever the issue she was having with the mist was forgotten and she finally turned to face him. "Hello there, I seem to be lost, can you help me?" the woman asked, sweetly.

As she stepped closer he realized she was a Darkling Lunatak, over a hundred if his experience with her race was anything to go by. "If you're going to New Lunis, forget it," he said. He hated Darklings on general principle, having watched them put his brother, the one member of his family he'd liked, put to death. Never mind the fact that his brother had been caught poisoning the water supply.

"Oh no, I live in the Desert of Sinking Sands. It's a small home, but I've lived there for years," she said.

"There are Lunataks in the desert? I didn't know that. The Thundercats never said anything about..." he began, taking her arm and starting to cross the beach.

"Oh they don't know about me, my home is hidden very well," she chuckled, though he noticed that she shot a glance behind her at where the mist had been. He assumed that she was crazy and ignored it. "Oh yes, I've seen the Thundercats many times, but they've never seen me. They come by in their vehicles and fought Mumm-Ra. Whatever happened to him anyway?" she asked, catching him off-guard.

"They defeated and killed him thanks to us Lunataks. They keep his corpse in their Lair, but it's not going anywhere. Surely you saw the battle, though, if you live near where the pyramid used to be," he said.

The woman hesitated before speaking, "Oh, I did hear some ruckus a while back. Is that what it was?" she said.

"Look, I can take you part way and point you in the right direction, but I don't do well in the desert," Knave started to explain. Between his Icewalker half and the coarse fur that his Cheetah half provided he was ill-suited to warmer climes. A look of disappointment and frustration cross the woman's features and she stumbled suddenly, dropping to her knees.

"Are you alright?" Knave asked. As much as he disliked Darklings, he tended to admire the elderly, it showed a certain tenaciousness to have lived this long, a determination to survive as it were. As he bent to help her up she hurled sand in his eyes, blinding him, and struck him hard across the side of the head with a rock. She was stronger than she looked, he had to admit.

"I'm sorry, forgive me," she said quietly, almost too soft to be heard. She struck him again, this time in the shoulder, and was about to swing a third time when he finally cleared his eyes. He blocked the blow and shoved her backwards on to her rear, staring angrily at her.

"What the hell was that for?" he snapped, watching her as best he could while rubbing the rest of the sand away.

"I have little love for what your family did, but I have no choice. You are my prisoner. Surrender!" she snarled, though she didn't rise.

"You are insane. I could snap you like a twig if I wanted to. Go away, old woman, before I finish what time has started." Knave took three paces before he heard that awful howl again and he realized with horror that he was standing in the path of that mouth. The suction was incredible as he was dragged across the sand, claws built for shredding flesh and his vaunted speed were all useless against that powerful force. The woman, he noticed with a sense of irritation, was braced against a large boulder, preventing her from being taken too. It had been a setup. She'd picked her timing and the place, somehow knowing. His back slammed against a rocky growth at the lip of the cave and he tried in vain to grab on to it to prevent being drawn in further. He was battered from side to side against the walls of the cave and by other debris, sinking deeper for longer than he'd expected.

Just as suddenly as it had begun, it stopped. Body aching, he dropped to the ground, angrily shoving a plank of wood out of his way. The cave went deeper, though how much he didn't know. Didn't want to know. Then the wind started up again, blowing out towards the entrance to the cave, through some process he could only imagine was magic.

Letting out a colourful stream of curses, Knave started to run, trying to keep ahead of that gale force wind. It didn't work, of course, the wind scooped him off his feet and propelled him out of the cave, skidding him across the sand painfully. He was about to get up again when Shade smashed his head with her rock.

* * *

"You're joking," Mystan said, staring with an unamused look on his face at his niece. They were still in the hospital, though moved to her own private room, only the best for someone of Mystan's standing. Although he'd never been one for humour, Zanaya had a certain fondness for it that she seemed to especially enjoy using to irritate him.

She shifted her burden in her arms, and pushed back the blanket that was starting to cover the child's face. "I'm not. This is all too much of a co-incidence. I'm cursed with a child because I killed an Icewalker woman, and now my child bears a striking resemblance to her? I'd kill it if I didn't think there would be dire consequences."

Mystan had heard the story, and wasn't sure how much of it to believe. He was devout, one didn't become a high priest without being so, but he just didn't believe that the prayers of every dying warrior would be listened to. It just wasn't likely. He made a mental note to see if the original Krystalin's file said anything about religious persuasions.

"Besides, you said yourself that she seems to be our first cryokinetic. That's very similar to that wretched woman. She could freeze people with a touch if she wanted," Zanaya continued, interrupting his thoughts. "All things considered, I'd say this is Krystalin reborn."

"Very well. Welcome to the family Krystalin Benekasbeel," he said marking her forehead with the all seeing eye. "You'll be happy to know that there's no sign of your boyfriend. Lura convinced him to run away and never come back. I'd sooner see him dead, but this will suffice."

"I wouldn't mind seeing him dead too. Maybe once I get back in shape I'll track him down and permanently end our relationship." The baby squealed in her arms, and she turned her attention back to it. "Would you like to see daddy dead too? You do? Maybe I'll make a nice blanket out of his hide for you, something to remember him by."

* * *

A broad smile was on Chilla's lips when Tug Mug told her the good news about Psychro beating up her son, Nitro. She was helping one of techs with upgrades to her Ice Runner when he'd approached and had excused herself to hear what her old ally had to say. She wasn't fond of Nitro, not as much as she had been before her involuntary entombment by Mumm-Ra had aged him eighty years. It still unnerved her to realize that he was old enough to be her father. He had strayed far from the way she would have raised him. He was a formidable fighter, but blinded by duty and honour. These weren't bad in general, but often it seemed to be an extreme. Too much kowtowing to whomever was in charge without a thought for personal gain. Then again, she'd grown up under a different era. She was generally loyal to Luna, but knew enough to look after her own interests too. Luna certainly wouldn't.

And then there was his taste in partners. It wasn't uncommon for influential Icewalkers to have a harem of sorts, Chilla had considered it herself, but had decided that Ren met all her physical needs. Nitro had an abundance of women, including women of other species. Once she had regained control of the house, she had drawn the line at non-Lunar women. Nitro hadn't been happy about it, but had obeyed. Perhaps blind loyalty had its perks. Which reminded her, she should look in on Zanaya at some point to see how her great-granddaughter was doing.

"Where's Nitro now?" she asked, snapping herself out of her reverie to deal with Tug Mug. She felt the need to rub salt in his proverbial wounds.

"He's was being taken to the hospital. They say he'll be fine, but want to run some tests to make sure," Tug Mug replied, bouncing slightly.

"It's too bad I've got Red, I might have given Psychro another chance for this," she chuckled. As Psychro had predicted, she and Red Eye had finally decided that there was mutual interest in a relationship and decided to see where it went. She suspected it wouldn't last, but felt she owed it to him.

"You could have them both," Tug Mug said, knowing too well about Icewalker harems. "Heck, you could have me too." His jesting was carried too far and she sent a blast of ice under his wheels.

"Unless you want to join my son in the hospital," she threatened.

"Sorry! How are the two of you doing anyway? Does he actually have eyes under those glasses?" he asked, wary for another attack.

She shook her head in disgust instead. They had, in fact, consummated their relationship early on, but it had been a horrible experience. Since it had been over two years, not counting their time in suspension, since they'd last had sex with their respective spouses, it had been frantic and very brief, and they'd yet to try again. Tug Mug didn't need to know any of it, instead she haughtily walked away, heading for the hospital.

* * *

Tycho stared at his sheep, periodically doing a head count to make sure they were all there. He hated to admit it, but he was getting bored. He'd been here herding sheep for months and had assumed that it would bring peace to his life. It was what he wanted, wasn't it? To spend his days quietly living with Darius, away from all the politics and intrigue? And yet his waking hours were full of wondering how things were going back on Third Earth. The city that he had helped start must surely have many buildings by now. He wondered how the population growth was doing. There had been that one pregnant woman, were there others yet?

More importantly was the question of what schemes had Aristarchus, his long standing rival, set in motion. He had sent an agent, unbeknownst to Luna, to keep an eye on the governor of New Lunis, and hoped to hear from him soon. He could always ask Luna for an update, he supposed, but that might make her think she was getting to him.

He suspected that she had set up Aristarchus as governor on purpose, knowing that Tycho would hate the decision and eventually accept the posting himself. He was tempted sometimes. Darius approached him from behind. A glance at the changeling's face told Tycho that Darius was picking up on his ward's discontent and wanted to help. It was one of the benefits of the Guardian program, genetically engineering slavish loyalty to their masters. Tycho had tried to undo it, and liked to pretend that Darius was only with him now because there was genuine love. There almost had to be. Obedience could be coded into the Lunar genes, but not love, surely. Darius slept with him and fawned over him because he wanted to, not because he had to. Deep down it sickened Tycho, the whole program, and he'd been tempted to disband it. But it was necessary. The Guardians often were resistant to the abilities of the other moons, especially those of the Psion moon; some could even detect when a Psion was using powers on their wards.

He counted the sheep again, out of habit more than anything, and took Darius' thin green hand in his own. His thoughts regarding his station in life were chaotic, but where Darius was concerned his thoughts were calm. "Any news?" he asked softly. The gentle warmth from his hand almost made Tycho wish the sheep were in their pens so he could take advantage of his protector.

"Nothing in particular. Luna's doing another building dedication today. It's about as exciting as it sounds. The Gravitons have decided to make a new holiday, which should bring them up to a nice round sixty. Oh, and the captain of the Lunatak fleet has announced a surprise bonding ceremony, I think you met him a couple of times," Darius said. He'd been to the capital to pick up some groceries and other needed supplies.

"That Icewalker? Cameo from House..." Tycho's voice trailed off, it had been too long since he'd been involved in politics, he was forgetting names.

"Mymekon. That's the one. Seems he got his girlfriend, Psikaris, pregnant. They just have to decide which of the houses they want to bond into."

Tycho's lip curled. Icewalker marriages, otherwise known as bonding ceremonies, were far too complicated. On their moon there was an unwritten ranking of the houses. Each house was ruled by the oldest living blood member, unless they were willing to pass that chance. It was the reason why Chilla had been returned to power when she'd returned from Third Earth. She had been born into the family and married Ren into it. If the positions had been reversed then Nitro would have been the sire of the house over Ren since Ren technically had been born into a different house.

In the case of Cameo and Psikaris they had the choice of going into his house, which was generally ranked lower, her house which she wasn't the oldest blood member of yet, or starting a new house. Ultimately, Tycho figured, they would go with the third option. Cameo's status on the Royal Moon would doubtless give his new house a status boost that staying in House Mymekon wouldn't.

Darius saw the look on Tycho's face and smiled. It was a warm, friendly smile. "I know. Thinking about it makes my head hurt too. You look like you have a lot on your mind. Why don't we put the sheep away a little early, and I'll find some way of distracting you." Darius' hand slipped from Tycho's and traced a line up his exposed arm.

"I'm sure you'll think of something, and hey, no chance of getting you pregnant." Darius joined in Tycho's laughter as they set about to round up the sheep.

* * *

She looked at where Knave was curled up, a Bulkin looking over the head wound. In some ways, she thought, the hybrid would be better off without the medical attention. Certainly his Lunatak side would appreciate that manner of death rather than that which awaited him. Shade turned away from the cell block and shuffled into the main area of her underground home. It was a simple thing, with the cell block occupying one side, a large area dominated by a circular pool of water, and a pair of smaller chambers to the side. The smaller of these was hers, when the spirit didn't need her and she wanted to get away from the prisoners, the other she was forbidden to ever enter. When not drawing life from the people in the cells, or tormenting her, the spirit stayed in this room doing who knew what. She wished that it was in there now.

"Very clever," the spirit said, seeming to look up at her from where it hovered over the pool. She'd long learned, although there wasn't really a face in the non corporeal mist, how to read the spirit's expressions and moods. "I didn't think you had it in you to beat him."

That had been her test of loyalty. Beat Knave without the spirit's help, but the encounter had been dumb luck. She'd originally planned to get him over where the cavern, and had gotten desperate. Even in her prime she would have had difficulty besting Knave in one on one combat, but in her hundreds? Fate had placed her behind that boulder when the Void had struck, and she'd seized the opportunity when he was propelled back out at her feet.

"I'm going to enjoy him," the spirit cooed, moving now to an angle that would allow it to see the resting hybrid. "I wonder if it's his Lunatak half or his Thunderian that makes him such a treat. I think an experiment is in order. But not yet, you're still tired. I see that. Go rest, I'll call for you when you're needed."

Shade snarled but obeyed. Capturing Lunataks wasn't something she wanted to do, but it was something she had to do. For her father's sake.

* * *

Tug Mug bounded through the halls of Sky Tomb, one destination in mind. If there was one thing he liked almost as much as he loved beer, women, and food, it was juicy gossip. He bounced past a stuffy Psion and a Darkling on his way to one person who he thought might enjoy this one. After all, there were very few who wouldn't appreciate knowing that Nitro had been taken down a peg. "Alluro! Are you een there?" he called, banging his metallic gauntlet against the steel door. There was no answer. The shift supervisor for the residential section of the city said that Alluro hadn't shown up to the job site yet, so he had to be in there.

Luckily the master hypnotist had never gotten around to changing the code to his bedroom door, a fact that he knew thanks to his hidden spy camera across the hall. He waved at it once and then proceeded to enter Alluro's room.

There was very little in the way of light; heavy curtains were drawn across the windows so that the only light source was a sphere that cast pale blue light in a limited area. It was a carpet with the image of an eye embroidered on it. Alluro had always been protective of it, if Tug Mug recalled. Sitting in one corner of the eye was the man himself, legs crossed and focussing intently on a stone sitting in the pupil of the eye. Alluro gestured with one hand for Tug Mug to stay quiet and that he'd be with him in a minute.

The Graviton watched as the light from the sphere pulsed, casting strange shadows around the room, and across Alluro's face. Now that Tug Mug had a chance to look at it, he realized that the sphere was one of the crystals that augmented his psyche club powers. Although he'd seen the hypnotist caught under its glow before, never had it been under this kind of circumstance. Alluro picked up a note pad and jotted something down in the messy handwriting of his, legible only to Alluro himself. Finally he called the crystal to his hand and rose to open the curtains.

"What were you doing?" Tug Mug asked, moving closer to examine the rock.

"Something is happening," Alluro said, scooping up the object and holding it out to the Graviton, so as not to get his dirty wheels on the carpet. "Do you recognize this?" Tug Mug shook his head. "You should. You saw this very often. Picture it as part of something bigger." There was still a blank look on Tug Mug's face, so Alluro gestured for the rotund one to follow him to his workbench.

"It's an eye, from a statue in Mumm-Ra's pyramid," he said, pleased at the surprise etched on Tug Mug's countenance. "I found it a month and a half ago, and it's been trying to speak to me ever since. And I don't think it's a co-incidence that I was the one to find it. My service to the Ancient Spirits in the past, my psychic abilities that make me receptive to its voice, and the fact that it's an eye. The eye is one of the most sacred symbols of Cyris, god of knowledge and god of Psions. And yet it's weak. It can't quite express what it wants, or maybe it doesn't want to be clear. I don't know."

"It was plaguing me so much that I pored over every history book I could find from both this planet and our moons and came up with very little. There's an old version of our creation myth that speaks of an explosion of psychic energy when the moons were created, and many people at that time believed that they could talk to inanimate objects. Curiously, around the same time there's a Warrior Maiden story that has a magical staff that talked to a shaman for many years. There are dozens of similar stories, but how much of that is fact, and how many of those people were simply mad?"

"And what ees thees stone saying?" Tug Mug asked, curious now and filing the information away to spread as gossip if he needed to. At worst it could be used to tell people that Alluro was going insane. Talking to rocks? Unheard of.

"At first it spoke of evil and death. Cold and fire. Life and hope. Warnings that someone would rise again, both the Thundercats and myself believe this refers to Mumm-Ra, which makes sense given the source of the prophesy. The words repeated themselves over and over. A woman who might save us," he shook his head, glancing over the notes scattered across the worktable. "This morning I passed the stone on my way to get a drink of water and it screamed at me. 'The time is near... rivers of blood... friend turned against friend... death born of fear...' and so I've been here all morning, trying to force more out of it. I got very little, except for one little thing. It mentions cold against fire. I think the cold refers to an Icewalker, one of them might be the keys to preventing whatever it is that's coming."

"Or might be the key to starting eet. Eef eet's talking about Mumm-Ra, then maybe an Icewalker will free him," Tug Mug said. A chill ran up his spine at the mention of that demon priest, and he had the uneasy feeling that his longtime friend wasn't going insane.

"I know. That's the trouble with prophesy. Every sentence has a double meaning. Who is to say that rivers of blood aren't somehow good, or even that they mean Lunar blood. By Cyris, given the nature of this planet, there may well be an actual river of blood. We have the acid lake after all." Alluro sighed and settled on his stool at the workbench.

"And what has Aristarchus said about all this?"

"He doesn't know. There's a nagging feeling that I shouldn't tell him, but again whether that's to prevent the prophesy, or help it I don't know. My gut says not to, and I ask you not to."

Tug Mug's eyes raised at Alluro. He'd never seen the hypnotist this confused and determined at the same time. And if he hadn't told Aristarchus, but had apparently spoken to the Thundercats, then there must be a good reason. "Fine," he said at length, "but it's a gut for a gut. Your gut feeling will cost you keeping mine full of food and beer."

"Agreed. And thank you."

* * *

Psychro stared in shock at the message he'd received. He'd been happily tinkering with the engine of one of the giant space cruisers, dismantling it so that its parts could be used for the city, when a Royal Lunar had approached him saying that he'd received a message from home to view when he was on break. It was close to dinner time anyway, so he figured he'd skip out a little early, with permission from his supervisor, and check it out. Communications between the moons of Plundarr and New Lunis took days, so whatever had happened was probably that old.

A large room had been set up, with individual booths for privacy, for people to keep in contact with home. He logged into his account and pulled up the video message from his twin sister Psikaris. They tried to speak at least once a week, and he knew she was happy to hear he'd survived the fight with Mumm-Ra. Psychro and Psikaris were as close as two Lunataks could be, so close in fact that there were many who made the mistake of assuming they were married. He chuckled at the thought. They practically were, they way the went on at times. They never kept secrets from one another and were constantly talking about everything in their lives. Psikaris sometimes disliked hearing too much about his sexual exploits, and chided him gently for being quite so promiscuous. He in turn told her that she needed to get out more, make more friends. He was actually glad, in a way, that she had found Cameo.

He was a good man, a faithful man, one who was more interested in the future they had together than with the physical pleasures. They'd had it out before Psychro had left for Third Earth, and he felt confident that Cameo would take care of her in his absence if he didn't want Psychro to take care of him when he got back.

Psikaris started her message out with pleasantries, hoping that he was doing well, and thanking him for keeping her updated on how things were going. She spoke briefly about the political situation, the new ambassador from Plundarr that she'd been forced to endure as part of her duties. Then she hesitated. Psychro recognized that look instantly and knew that it was something she didn't really want to talk about. Like when their mother had tried to return to the Psion moon to see family there and had been arrested for treason. Psikaris had been the one to tell him about it that day, and he could sense that she was about to drop another bombshell.

"Psychro, I love you and I want you to promise you won't overreact. I can't see you right now, but I have faith in you, big brother, that you will do that for me." This was something big. She only called him big brother when it was something that she knew he wouldn't approve of. He was technically her older brother, having been born about a minute before she was. He swallowed hard and promised.

She went on, "You're bound to find out about this sooner or later, and I'd rather you hear it from me. You're going to be an uncle." Psychro nearly fell out of his seat and his face burned a dark purple as he fought to compose himself. "We hadn't planned on it, we were going to wait until we were bonded, but... you of all people know how it is. We got caught up in the moment and the next thing we knew he was inside me. I'll tell you, big brother, you weren't lying. It's an incredible experience. Anyway, before you come back here and beat up Cameo, I want you to know that he's doing the right thing. We're going to be bonded. Once I know the exact date, I'll pass word on so that you can attend. It just wouldn't be the same without you. I'm really sorry, and I know I've got a tongue lashing coming but Cameo's special to me. He understands me, and I hope you can be happy for me. Anyway, I guess I've said enough for one message, I'll let you digest this one and nervously await your response."

Psychro saved the file and logged off. It would do him no good to answer right now. He'd be better off waiting until he figured out just how badly he was going to hurt Cameo.

* * *

The halls of the hospital were busier than Chilla would have expected, especially in comparison to the Ice Moon where people tended to tolerate pain better. It wasn't that the Icewalkers would leave open wounds to fester, it was just that they dealt with the more common aches and pains better than those from the other moons. A Graviton who had overindulged on food and now suffered from a tummy ache exemplified her opinion. She was somewhat grateful, then, to hear Nitro complaining to a pleasant Darkling nurse that he didn't need all the fuss and just wanted to get back to his duties.

Chilla pushed open the door to his personal room, a luxury afforded him due to his great rank, and saw her son with his head bandaged and gauze wrapped around his arms. There were Darklings on either side, one was the nurse in question who was trying to adjust one of the bandages, the other was one of his favourite bedmates a young and far too skinny thing named Nuiane. All three glanced over when the door opened, and Nitro jerked his arm free of the nurse to salute. "Sire," he said, using the preferred from of her superior status.

"Son," she said bluntly. "I hear you lost a fight."

He met her gaze for as long as his duty required and then looked sharply away. "I did. I ran into Psychro of House Myntaello. He insulted me and I felt honour bound to defend myself. He's just lucky I was tired from the long space voyage or else..."

"Someone from a lower house defeated you and you're making excuses? How bad are the injuries?" there was a faint hint of mirth in her voice. Nitro was a failure and a disappointment, seeing him taken down a peg would be good for him. But a defeat by him was a defeat for the house. If he had cost her any standing in the Icewalker empire...

Nitro shoved the nurse away a little more roughly than he probably should have and she stomped away in annoyance. "There's more gauze than injury here. If it wasn't for well intentioned people, I wouldn't even be in this hospital. As soon as I have a good rest I'm going to track down Psychro for a re-match."

"I hope you do better next time," Chilla said. "For your sake."

* * *

Pumyra grunted and launched a smoke filled pellet at the marauding Berserkers, causing Ram Bam to scratch at his face, trying to clear the smoke from his field of vision. She followed up this attack by planting a boot in his knee, bringing him crashing to the ground, yelping in pain. How had it gotten like this, anyway?

It had started simply enough. Cheetara had asked if she would like to go for an afternoon run, since she hadn't had the chance to do so on her own lately. Panthro needed to help Lynx-O with repairs at the Tower of Omens as it was, so the timing would be convenient. That was the plan. What wasn't part of the plan were these Berserkers. As soon as the two women had burst into the small clearing the fiendish pirates had attacked. They'd been shouting about Top Spinner going missing, which Pumyra mentally filed away to mention to Lion-O later, and were certain that the Thundercats had had something to do with it.

A tree cracked as Hammerhand swung at Cheetara and missed, knocking the small oak over. Pumyra threw another of her pellets at Hammerhand and was pleased when he blocked it with his large metallic hand, coating it liberally in a super adhesive. When he tried to wipe off the gooey substance with his other hand, it stuck fast to the glue.

"Look out, Cheetara!" Pumyra cried. Her friend, much like herself if she was honest, had been paying too much attention to the leader of the Berserkers and had neglected the third person. Cruncher, strongest of the pirates, had managed to loop behind Cheetara, picked up the fallen tree and was swinging it like a club.

Her warning came just in the nick of time. Cheetara vaulted over the flying tree and hit Cruncher solidly in the face with her staff. Seeing his men wounded, and himself largely useless in combat now, Hammerhand called a retreat, warning that he would return. "Let's get back to the Tower," Cheetara said. "Lion-O should hear about this."

* * *

Zanaya was all alone with Krystalin when Chilla appeared in the doorway. Mystan had finally conceded the need to sleep and had reluctantly headed back to his room. The child suckled greedily at her mother's breast, much like her father, Zanaya thought angrily. "There's my great-grandson," Chilla said. She had enough courtesy not to enter without being properly invited, but that wouldn't last long if Zanaya denied her entry. It was a fact that the Psion woman knew, so she gestured for Chilla to take a seat by her bedside.

Chilla stared down at the little bundle, remembering dimly her own experiences of motherhood. Nitro's birth had been long and agonizing, compounded by her stubborn refusal to take any drugs to lessen the pain. This one didn't look that much different, though she could faintly see a family resemblance. "I never thought I'd be seeing a great-grandchild, especially not at my age." She said it more to herself, so Zanaya ignored it. "What's her name?"

"Krystalin Benekasbeel," she replied.

"It figures you'd consider it part of your family. I'm sure we could make a claim on it, but the last thing I want running around is a half breed brat." Chilla gently picked up the child and examined it, startled by the coolness of its skin, even to her own body. She had never heard of a case where such diluted blood became so dominant in a child, but then she really hadn't done any research. The baby seemed to smile at her and reached out to grab a lock of hair.

"Of course I do," Zanaya snapped. "She came out of me, and she's staying with me. Besides, once I get out of here I plan on hunting down her father, and that should remove any claim your House has on her." A sudden blast of ice pinned Zanaya to the bed, and she squirmed, trying to free herself from its grip.

"I thought Psions were smart," Chilla hissed. "No one threatens my family without dealing with me." The baby started to cry, picking up on the hostility perhaps, and Chilla shifted her grip to ready a fireball. She thought better of it in the end, and used the heat to melt the ice covering Zanaya. "Keep that in mind when you do go hunting." Chilla returned the baby to her mother and left Zanaya alone to think.

* * *

It was her twelfth birthday again, and Shade tore open the box that Red Eye had lovingly placed in front of her. It was, as she hoped, the beginnings of her career. The Darklings protected their moon closely, and patrols of Darklings searched the deep jungles for any sign of intruders. Her father was one, and soon she would be too. She held up the trainee's uniform made from a secret formula that masked one's body signature. With it they were invisible to anyone who might bring their own infrared goggles. "Thank you, daddy!" she cried, jumping into his arms with pleasure. He smiled that goofy smile of his and ruffled her hair. He loved her, and she loved him...

* * *

"Wake up, Shade. The time is ripe," the spirit's voice interrupted her reminiscing. Grumbling, she rose to her feet and emerged into the main chamber, allowing the spirit to convert her body again. "Cheer up, Shade. We're going to see Lunataks today," it snickered, taking perverse delight in her discomfort. Soon the transformation was complete and they were on their way.

* * *

"Pao pao peppers?" Paeder asked, more than a little confused. A squad of three Icewalkers had been sent to the Berbil village to exchange machine parts for much needed food supplies. Once they got the crops growing in Dark Side, there was hope that the Lunataks could be self sufficient, but until then they had little choice but to trade with the robotic bears and the other denizens of Third Earth.

"That's what they called them," her compatriot, a woman named Spitfire replied. Much as her name suggested, she was a fire breather. Icewalkers generally came in three varieties. Those with ice based abilities, those with fire, and those with both. Strictly speaking, there had been occurrences of those with neither, but they were rare and didn't tend to live very long. Paeder herself was ice based. The third, an older man named Frostor was only technically in the third category; he could warm his skin several degrees if he so chose, and that was the extent of it. On the other hand, he claimed that his wife thought it enhanced their bedroom play.

"They look spicy. I recommend against Icewalkers eating them," Frostor chimed in.

"Not a bad suggestion. Let's get this stuff loaded into the ship and get out of here, those bears are too friendly for my tastes," Paeder said. They pulled their borrowed cart to the small vessel they'd taken and began loading the crates of food into the hold of the ship, as the others chuckled. The Berbils seemed decent enough, but were too anxious to be of service.

Suddenly the ground shook, and Shade burst through in their midst. She hovered in the air, rotating slowly to keep an eye on the movements of all three Icewalkers. It was Paeder who spoke first. "Who are you?" she demanded.

"I am your new master. Bow before me or perish," Shade intoned, the spirit deepening her voice and adding a slight echo to it. The effect made her seem far more sinister than she really was.

The three Icewalkers laughed, confident in their numbers advantage. "We submit to no one's rule without a fight," Frostor said, throwing blades of ice at Shade. The blades sliced through Shade's cloak, and she winced as they exploded on contact with her body. She recovered quickly, however and turned to glare at the man.

"You are expendable," Shade said, reaching her hand out as the spirit commanded her. The spirit said an arcane word, whose true meaning was lost to the sands of time, and Frostor was engulfed in fire. He screamed as his skin began to burn, despite the best efforts of Paeder to extinguish the flames with her ice. Magical fire didn't need to conform to the same laws of physics that regular fire did. The screams died out, and Frostor collapsed in an ungainly heap.

"You want to play with fire?" Spitfire snapped, infuriated. She'd actually liked working with Frostor, and now he was gone, in the worst way possible for one of her kind. She lashed out violently with her own gout of flame, utilizing her most deadly blast on Shade. The attack had an unexpected effect, as the Darkling bathed in the heat, drawing more and more of the fire from Spitfire's body, and she desperately tried to stem the flow. Spitfire grew weaker, the spirit drawing every ounce of fire until every last drop was gone. She staggered and stared in amazement at Shade.

Paeder moved next, tackling Shade about the mid-section and sending both crashing to the earth. Paeder managed to get a few good blows to the head in before Shade recovered. Her hands lashed out, grabbing the Icewalker's windpipe and squeezing tightly with impossible strength. "Please... Stop..." Paeder gasped out.

Shade rose with Paeder still clutched in one hand. She hovered slightly in the air until she was close to Spitfire and grabbed her by the neck too. "Do you surrender to me?" she asked, turning from one to the other. Only when both Icewalker women had conceded did she loosen her vise like grip. "Good, now to take you to meet the others."

* * *

How dare she, Mystan fumed as he walked out the hospital door and into the fresh air outside. An aide had come to him first thing in the morning with reports on the previous evening's activities; Chilla had bullied Zanaya, and for what purpose? Some sense of macho pride? A show that she was superior? He had had enough of these Icewalkers and the way they liked throwing their weight around, and House Iespyk seemed to have the worst offenders of all. He intended to show her that she was dead wrong, that Psions were the far superior race.

"Is everything alright, master?" Lura's voice spoke in his head, and he saw her working on a building nearby, helping to install a window. She didn't bother to look over, knowing that she had his attention. He smiled, knowing that it didn't hurt to keep the other races uninformed of what was going on.

Mystan knelt, feigning that his bootlaces were coming undone, and opened his mind to her so that she could review the conversation he'd had with his niece as well as his thoughts on the matter. He heard a derisive snort telepathically, "Figures. Stupidity must run in the family," she sent, "do you need a hand? I'm almost done here."

"No. I think I can handle this on my own." His faux bootlace problem dealt with, he stood and headed for Sky Tomb; if she wasn't in her quarters, then someone was bound to have an idea where she'd gone.

* * *

Psychro had been shifted over to a small shield generator, the hope being that it could be removed and reconfigured to create a force field around the city. If the time came... he paused and corrected himself... when the time came for a battle against the Thundercats, they would need every advantage they could get. He'd seen the recordings on the Sky Tomb computers, and heard more than a few tales from Tug Mug. That Sword of Omens could do just about anything, and the shields might be able to delay things long enough to do something about the man holding the sword.

As he fiddled with an energy flow line he considered that he actually admired Lion-O, even though he'd only seen him once, and that from a reasonable distance. Lion-O exuded confidence, and was covered in muscle. Now that was a man that he wouldn't want to test his strength against.

"It should be safe now," he called over to another of the engineers he was working with. Of course, he knew he was stalling. The longer he took in responding to Psikaris' message, the more she was going to worry about his reaction. They'd grown up together, and he knew that she had calculated the bare minimum time frame for a response to reach her. And what would his response be? That he was disappointed in her and proud for her at the same time? That Cameo should be prepared for at least one punch in the face? The truth was that he understood her situation too well and had allowed his idealized vision of her to cloud reality.

Psikaris was a grown woman, with the same collection of hormones that he possessed. Just because she had them didn't mean she would ignore them. He remembered his first time in love, before learning the woman in question had been using him to irritate her father. He'd been unable to keep his hands off her when they were alone, and only a little more polite when in public. She'd enjoyed those public displays, if he remembered correctly, especially when her father was around.

If his sister was anything like him, he was impressed that she and Cameo had managed to remain chaste for so long. But no, the fault would lie on Cameo. Psikaris was unlikely to do much initiating on her own, so the boy must have been at fault. He'd been tempted by her good looks and pressured her into it. Except that she didn't sound like she'd been wholly unwilling. Perhaps he'd gotten her drunk first, pilots were known for their drinking, weren't they? And Psikaris had never been able to handle her booze.

"Hey! Careful back there!" one of the engineers shouted, startling him, and he realized that he had been fiddling with the cable and had almost re-attached it.

"Sorry about that," Psychro called back, forcing himself to stand and walk away from the offending cable, and scowled when he saw Nitro approaching. Psychro was a fine brawler, and knew he'd caught Nitro at the right time, now Nitro looked ticked.

"You, follow me," the full blooded Icewalker said, staring daggers at Psychro.

"No can do. I'm busy on this," he replied, scooping up a wrench from his belt pouch. He started to crouch down to loosen a bolt when Nitro grabbed him by his vest, yanking him to his feet and drawing him to eye level.

"Your work is done, and I owe you a hospital visit," Nitro said, catching Psychro's wrist as he tried to wallop him with the wrench.

Psychro was in trouble, and knew it well. Nitro had been head of his fighting class, and constantly exceeded those in the higher classes. He'd won three of the annual tournaments before his stately affairs took precedence. Despite that, it was common knowledge that he kept up his rigorous training regimen, and often sparred with his guards to keep in tiptop shape.

The first punch staggered him, and the second sent him sprawling backwards into the shield generator. "Hey! Watch it, that's delicate machinery!" another engineer shouted. Nitro nodded curtly, acceding to the request and tossed Psychro away from the machine. The Icewalker/Psion hybrid scrabbled backwards, trying to come up with some way to salvage the situation. Certainly talking was out of the question, Nitro's pride had been damaged and he needed to restore it in the only way acceptable in Icewalker culture.

There was one chance. It was a longshot, but it might work. He stood and placed his arms behind his back. "Fine, you want to do this then get it over with so I can get back to work." It might be seen as shameful to attack an unarmed and defenceless man, at least he hoped so. Nitro had picked up the fallen wrench and jabbed it forcefully into Psychro's stomach. He doubled over as the wind was blown out of him and fell to his knees.

"You're pathetic." Nitro was standing directly over him. He was still clearly angry, but wasn't likely to do any more harm. "It's no wonder my mother wouldn't have anything to do with you."

Moments later, Nitro was gone and Psychro's fellow engineers were helping him to his feet and making sure he was alright. All in all, he had to consider it a victory that he'd managed to get Nitro to go away with only three shots to show for it. Plus he still owned the win in the previous fight. That made him two for two against one of the most feared fighters.

* * *

The prisoners trembled as Shade descended through the ceiling bearing two fresh captives. Already a pile of brittle bones and Berbil parts lay in a pile. They served to remind the prisoners that they were nothing more than a food source to be used and discarded at the whim of the evil spirit.

One of the prisoners had referred to the spirit once as Nightshade, in reference to the way that it corrupted Shade's body. It had taken a liking to this, having long forgotten its true name, and adopted it for its own. Shade walked boldly through the field, protected by the spirit, and deposited Spitfire and Paeder roughly on the ground. Shade found herself pushed out of the cell as Nightshade eagerly wanted to sample his newest delicacies. The spirit whipped around first one terrified woman and then the other, drawing their life force out as it did. "Very nice," it cooed, still moving. Secretly it was also pleased that the other prisoners were keeping their distance, trying to avoid being taken again. "But there's something missing. Something that was pleasant in that one." The smoky form appeared to look in Knave's direction before slowly seeping through the barrier. "Perhaps it's time we look at bringing the one called Cheetara here." It drifted over to the pool of water and seemed to stare into it.

With the being thus distracted, the other prisoners felt it somewhat safe to approach and fill the newcomers in on the situation. Paeder and Spitfire's horror intensified as they listened, beginning to wonder if maybe Frostor hadn't gotten off lucky. At length Paeder pulled herself away from the pack and regarded Knave. "So, my being here is your fault. Why am I not surprised?" she said, dripping with venom. She'd had several unpleasant run-ins with the half-breed, and was even captain because he had killed the previous one.

"At least I'll die with the satisfaction that you won't be far behind me," he snarled in response.

* * *

When Mystan arrived at Chilla's room, he was disappointed to see that she wasn't alone. Red Eye was lounging on the bed, from what the telekinetic could see, and he was almost surprised to see a hint of relief on Chilla's face as she opened the door. That hint vanished and turned into one of pure loathing as she realized who it was that had interrupted her. For a moment Mystan wondered if the relationship was on the rocks, as it were. Certainly both seemed to be fully dressed. He made a mental note to get Lura to look into it, find out more. At present he had other things to contend with. "What do you want?" she snapped.

"I want you to remember that in a fight, I can beat you. Certainly not hand to hand, I'd prefer not to lower myself to those levels, but there are other ways," he appeared smug, and knew that she would rise to the bait. She also would not notice what else he was doing. Performing multiple tasks was difficult for most, but he was a master, a high priest, he was capable of doing a great deal. Even as he spoke, his mind latched on to Red Eye, forcing him to stand up and walk stiffly towards Chilla.

"Coward," she spat, inhaling sharply, her intent very obvious. Red Eye's hands wrapped around her neck, taking her completely by surprise. The blast of cold air she'd been readying sprayed across the ceiling as Red Eye's brute strength forced her to her knees in front of him.

"Cowardice is for the weak and unintelligent," Mystan said, maintaining the mental hold he had on Red Eye while crouching to be eye to eye with Chilla. She swatted at him and earned a clubbing blow from her boyfriend's skull to the back of her head. Mystan followed up with a slap across her face, causing her anger to flare. If not for the hands around her neck she would have breathed ice at him. "You see? You are weak. I guess we'll find out if you're unintelligent too. Leave Zanaya and her girl alone or else." He rose, robes swishing as he walked down the hall to his own room, only releasing the telekinetic grip when he was comfortably away.

He settled at his desk and prepared the report he would be sending to the other elders at his next opportunity, including finding out if killing Chilla would be of benefit.

* * *

Red Eye caught Chilla before she hit the floor as the grip was released. "I'm sorry, Chilla, he used his..."

"Shut up! I know what that bastard did to you," she snapped, rubbing at her sore throat and aching head. Just because she knew what had happened, didn't mean she had to like it. Of all the races she'd encountered, the Psions could be the most infuriating in a fight. At least a Thunderian would fight fair. She saw a hurt look on Red Eye's face and groaned. She didn't have time to deal with wounded feelings.

Mystan had been right about that, though she had no way knowing that he suspected it, her relationship with Red Eye was dying out. They still had their common bonds, lost loves and lost pasts. But there was no physical chemistry, she just didn't feel that sexual spark that she'd experienced with Ren. It had seemed that there was nothing that Ren could do to her physically that wouldn't have excited her, they avoided playing it too rough because it would hinder them as warriors, but there had been far too many bruises and cuts on both to explain away. And she hadn't cared.

Red Eye was disgustingly warm to the touch, something that could almost be considered pleasurable if the climate was cold enough, but it was unnerving. And his one frantic coupling with her had nearly nauseated her. She'd tried to assure him that it wasn't his ability that was causing her to give him the cold shoulder, and so he kept trying. He had just been trying by planting kisses along her arm when Mystan had entered.

Right. Mystan. The reason she was feeling so angry. She stood swiftly and started walking down the hall. "Where are you going?" Red Eye called out, jogging to catch up.

"To pay Mystan back."

* * *

"Another incident?" Aristarchus groaned as Chilla was brought into his office along with Red Eye and Mystan. He had almost literally finished talking to Nitro when this fresh bit of violence was brought to his attention. It was all his senior staff and advisors too, which was even more disconcerting. If the general populace saw that the upper echelon couldn't maintain order then the rabble might start causing problems. What he needed was something to focus their anger and aggression on. Certainly a war with the Thundercats was coming, any fool could see that, but the Lunataks weren't ready yet. There were too many defences to finish installing. What then? The Mutants? No. Attacking them might provoke a war on the Moons of Plundarr, and he didn't want to take that risk. Besides, his son had friends within the Mutant hierarchy. "What happened?" he turned to the three offenders.

"He attacked me."

"After she threatened Zanaya."

"Who threatened Knave."

"I see. Family squabbles. My secretary tells me that you, Chilla, set Mystan on fire and he retaliated by telekinetically smashing your head into a wall until my teams got there to break it up. Is that correct?"

"Yes, but he came to my room and had Red Eye choke me," Chilla protested as the blame sounded like it was going to be pinned solely on her.

Aristarchus turned to Mystan for confirmation. "This is true, governor. My apologies to you for causing this inconvenience. I felt threatened by her attack on my niece and acted only out of love for her. Chilla's claim that her grandson was insulted isn't true either, I'm assured."

"I'm inclined to believe you, Mystan. You've never lied to me before, and I see no reason for you to start. Chilla, on the other hand, you have been involved in a number of hostile incidents since you came here. I am re-assigning you to clearing the Dark Side jungles of dangerous animals. Report to Auralin for further orders." His eyes never left Chilla, daring her to question his authority and risk further punishment. They both knew that jungle duty would be unpleasant for her, given its warmth, and that there was a high casualty rate. Instead she set her jaw and left without protest.

* * *

Psychro rubbed his fuzzy scalp as he once again sat in front of the computer terminal. He'd originally shorn his locks to try and impress Chilla, a feat that Psikaris had teased him mercilessly for, but seeing it hadn't worked he gave it up. Finally deciding that there was no point in putting it off any longer, Psychro hit a few buttons and began recording his message back home.

"Psikaris, hey, it's me. Before you ask about the bruise there's a good explanation. Remember about that fight I had where I beat Nitro? Yeah, well, he decided to have round two. I didn't do so well, but he let me off light. I had to sacrifice some pride and told him that I was going to let him beat me, but he didn't like that very much. I gotta admit, Nitro's got great tastes in women. He's got this one smokin' babe with him, some chick from the Dark Moon, I think I heard her name is Nuiane or something like that. She's got legs that I'd love to have wrapped around me, and a chest like you wouldn't believe. I mean, I thought Paeder was big, but these? I might hit on her, just to piss Nitro off some more, you know." He looked away from the mounted camera and then down at his hands.

"Okay, so I'm stalling and you probably know it. Reading people was never your thing, but you always knew me. I can't say I'm happy for you, I'm just not that kind of guy, and Cameo's probably lucky that I was here when I found out, because he'd probably be a blue smear on the wall by now. I mean, hey, don't get me wrong, I'm glad he's doing the right thing for you and bonding with you, it's just... aw, you know how protective I am of you. Remember that first boyfriend you had? I broke his nose because he bragged that he'd kissed you. I just know how guys can be. We're driven by our crotch all too often, and a pretty girl like you might get hurt, that's all. It would kill me if I saw you hurt like that."

"I guess, in the end, you're wanting my approval or something. Some kind of permission to keep Cameo around, make him part of the family. Well, I guess you could do worse. We've known him forever, and I guess he's got the power and responsibility to keep you up to your ears in the latest gadgets. Just don't become some kind of trophy wife for him," he managed a smile. His anger had long burned off, or maybe Nitro had knocked some sense into him. "And if you even think about getting bonded without me there, you'll be in big trouble. I'm still technically the head of House Myntaello, and you haven't left it yet, so you have to do as I say." His smile widened, she knew he'd never been able to order her around. "Anyway, I don't have to like the situation, but I'll support you. I always have. Love you, 'Karis." He switched off the camera and sent the video on its way across the galaxy. His heart swelled, feeling good about what he'd said. And then he wondered where he could find Nuiane.

* * *

The sun had been up for a little over an hour and Cheetara and the Thunderkittens were visiting the Tower of Omens. They had arrived the previous evening so that Cheetara could be taken by Lynx-O into Dark Side to speak with the Lunataks, discover whether they had had any disappearances and to exchange a few minor supplies. She didn't relish making the journey, for one thing the trip through the Forest of Mists was dangerous, and for another she got the distinct impression from Governor Aristarchus that the peace was only a temporary one.

Of course, she had two other reasons for going. The first was on Lion-O's orders, to inspect the city layout as well as any defences or armaments she might see, just in case a fight broke out. The other was more of a personal reason; she hadn't heard from Knave in a while and had been looking forward to hearing more about his life among the Lunataks. He was really opening up to her, and she felt certain that he could be turned to their side. The Icewalkers had poisoned his brain severely with stories of the evils of Thunderians, to the point where he really hated his other half, but she could show him the truth. If she could convince her kinsmen that his Lunar half wasn't all bad, she reminded herself watching the Thunderkittens. Wily Kat especially seemed to be intimidated by Knave, claiming that the hybrid had threatened to eat him once.

The door swished open to the command centre and her eyes widened when Lynx-O entered the room wearing a lime green outfit decorated with bright pink polka dots. She was about to say something when she noticed Wily Kit imploring her silently to be quiet. So, another of their tricks then. It seemed harmless enough, so she opted to play along. "Good morning, Lynx-O. Did you sleep well?" she asked instead, much to Kit's relief.

"Oh yes, I did indeed. You know, ever since I became blind, my other senses have become much more acute, and I must say that means that Snarfer's pancakes this morning were superb, perhaps a little heavy on the Berbilberries, but that's Snarfer for you," Lynx-O said, taking a quick scan of the area on his braille board while he conversed.

"You can never have too many Berbilberries, that's what I always say," Wily Kat piped up, trying to stifle a snicker.

"What's also amazing is that my sense of touch has improved. Did you know that I can feel colours? My outfit, for instance, it feels like it's green and covered with red... no, more like pink polka dots. But that can't be possible, since I don't own any outfits like that." Cheetara couldn't hold back her laughter as she saw the colour draining from the faces of the junior duo. "Ah, I see my suspicions were correct then. I expect that the next time I go into my closet I will find my proper uniform then?"

"Yes, Lynx-O," Wily Kit said, tugging her brother along.

After watching the door close, Cheetara turned back to the eldest Thundercat. "I didn't know you could tell colours by touch," she said.

"Actually, I can't. Luckily I met Bengali in the hall and he told me that he'd seen the Thunderkittens going in there to pull their prank. I expect they will think twice before trying it again any time soon."

"They certainly will. You ready to go?" Cheetara laughed again, wondering how long it would take either Wily Kit or Wily Kat to realize they'd been duped.

"I shall be in a moment. We will be at the Forest of Mists within the hour."

* * *

One confirmed dead, two missing and presumed dead. Aristarchus went over Stalker's report again. Once Captain Paeder had failed to return, he'd sent out his best to investigate. Frostor of House Whitestar had been found in a smouldering heap. Fire was an Icewalker's worst nightmare, especially if they had no fire capabilities of their own. What was left of his body would be sent back to the moons on the next transport.

Spitfire and Paeder were separate matters. A fight had clearly taken place. Stalker wasn't sure who else had been involved, only that there was likely only one opponent. Someone that could take out three trained Icewalker soldiers wasn't someone to be taken lightly, in Aristarchus' book. Since neither one had been found at the scene it was assumed that they'd either been taken prisoner or had pursued the enemy some distance and had been killed elsewhere. While Paeder's family were from a minor house, the Snowskins, the Blyzzards to which Spitfire belonged were influential, second only to the Iespyks. They would be demanding action for the loss of one of their own, and would cause a stink if they didn't get their way. This was a logistical nightmare if ever he'd seen it.

But who would have done it? The Berbil village wasn't far from Cat's Lair, he thought, had they decided to end the truce? He couldn't confirm it yet, but his suspicions went that way. The Sword of Omens possessed many powers, maybe fire was one of them. He would keep an eye on them. There was a subtle movement in the corner of his office and he started to reach for the gun he kept under the desk until he realized it was only Nuiane. The slender woman from the Dark Moon was one of Nitro's girls, but she also served as a spy. She genuinely liked her master, though, so he was careful not to press for too much information about Nitro himself. Something was bothering her, she had the look of someone who felt so dirty that they needed a long shower, and even that he doubted would wash away whatever it was. It didn't matter. She could attend to her personal problems however she liked, it was probably just some sex act she'd done with Nitro that she didn't like doing. "Well?" he asked, fixing her with a patient look. It was hard keeping his spies happy, but they tended to work better when they were.

"You're being watched," she said, contemplating how much to reveal and finally deciding that Aristarchus was smart enough to interpret her hesitation as an admission that the spy was Nitro. "He's been asked to keep an eye on you by Prince Tycho. He sent his first report yesterday."

"I see," Aristarchus mulled over the tidbit. It didn't surprise him that someone from the Moons would be monitoring him, but the 'who' did. Tycho, he'd believed was fully retired and content to stay that way. Perhaps his snooping was an indication that he was becoming less content. "And what payment do you require this time?" They had long agreed that money wouldn't work, not between them. Anything she needed could be gotten through Nitro, and sums of money would arouse suspicion. As a result, she often called in favours, either for herself or for friends.

He saw it in her eyes, she knew exactly what she wanted, it had been motivation to turn on the man she loved and respected. "I want something bad to happen to Psychro of House Myntaello."

* * *

"Hurry Shade!" Nightshade hissed impatiently, feeling sorely tempted to break their agreement and enter her sleeping area. It had been a concession, a means of ensuring that she would respect his privacy. If only Shade knew what lay behind the other set of curtains, she might discover a means to undo everything. Nightshade had been watching the activity at the Tower of Omens through the magical pool and was pleased with the results. A wicked idea formed, capturing Cheetara inside Lunatak territory would incite violence between the two peoples. The peace was tenuous at best to begin with, and the Thundercats were starting to look a little too closely at what he was doing.

The curtain pulled back and Shade ambled through. "What do you want?" she started, even as Nightshade swept around her, transforming her frail bones into strong ones, covered in rippling muscles, much as she had been at the peak of her life, only stronger. This was easy magic, shape changing within certain parameters could be done and then left alone. Fancier changes, such as drastic height and weight differences, were harder, and occasionally needed to be reinforced.

"It's time to catch a Cheetah," Nightshade explained, whispering into her head. He guided her to fly beneath the earth, heading for the Forest of Mists.

* * *

Psychro's groin still ached after the previous night's events, and he consoled it in the privacy of his own room. Finding Nuiane had been easy; Nitro had been in a foul mood and she'd taken the hint, to find somewhere else to spend the night. And so she had gone to the bar for a quick dinner before bed. He'd found her there, nursing a glass of fruit juice and a bowl of steamed vegetables, certainly not the most appetizing of meals in Psychro's opinion, but then he supposed she was watching her diet to keep in Nitro's favour.

He had approached her table and asked if he could join her. Although it was clear she wasn't enamoured with the idea, the place was busy and seating was at a premium. He used a hint of his hypnotic powers to engage her in a pleasant conversation, satisfied when she actually seemed to warm to him. What he hadn't intended to do was keep the hypnotic charm on her. He'd never really received formal training in it, he'd just learned from trial and error what seemed to work on people. It was barely hypnosis too, he could persuade people to change their minds when he was within close proximity, more so when there was physical contact, and oh there had been physical contact between them. He disliked using it too much in his pursuit of women, as it took some of the enjoyment out of the act.

As his thoughts turned naughtier, he found himself surprised that she was responding quite so eagerly. Soon she was paying for their food and dragging him around the back of the establishment. His hand was travelling steadily up her thigh as the other struggled with the buttons on her blouse, when suddenly a second voice interrupted their play. A relatively slender woman from the Graviton moon called out Nuiane's name, admonishing her for cheating on their master. Psychro had been unaware that Nitro had brought a second harem girl with him. Although Gravitons weren't his personal preference, they were favourites for Icewalkers wanting a partner from another race; their extra bulk kept them warm in the cold months, and their cooking was usually unmatched.

Psychro was so startled by the newcomers appearance that he didn't notice the transformation of Nuiane until she backhanded him. "How dare you!" she snarled, spitting in his face. He felt horrified and ashamed. His sub-conscious mind had been using his mental powers to seduce her, drawing on his lascivious thoughts to make her drawn to him. It was times like this that he wished he'd taken training to control the powers. All trace of thought, conscious and otherwise, were driven from him by a bone jarring knee to his crotch.

He was unsure as to how he had managed to get back to his temporary home, if you could call a single room in a hastily built house shared by a dozen others home. Luckily no one seemed to have noticed his discomfort, he thought as he finally stood to get ready for the work day, or if they did they chose not to comment. When he arrived at the job site, he was told that he had been re-assigned to Jungle Clearing duties under Auralin. Great. Just what he needed. How could this get any worse?

* * *

The journey to the Forest of Mists took no time at all, the terrain zipping past as they went. It was one of the advantages to the Tower of Omens' location, they could monitor Dark Side easily, and venture in when needed. Lynx-O paid little heed to the surroundings, his lack of sight rendering the breathtaking beauty of Third Earth to nothing more than objects to avoid.

There were days when his lack of vision made him sad. To never again see a flower in full bloom, to never see the smile on a friendly face. But he tried not to think of it as a loss, because he had gained so much. His other senses had become more acute, for reasons that baffled Pumyra. Now simple things like the smell of Cheetara's perfume became so much more, and he could pick out the subtleties in it that he suspected were unknown to her.

His hands moved rapidly across the braille board, translating the sights around him into usable data, almost like sonar. He found the opening to the Forest and tapped the controls. It was dangerous, certainly, and more than once he had ventured too close to a stalactite, but he'd never yet done significant damage. Yet. A shiver of dread went through him, and he hoped that he hadn't just jinxed himself.

"What on Thundera?" he said aloud, as his hands told him what he could not believe. There was a person at the exit and they were shooting beams of energy. "Brace yourself, Cheetara!" he said, cursing the inability to manoeuver.

"What's going on?" she asked clutching her control stick and trying to pierce the darkness to see the main section of the Thunderstrike. Lynx-O didn't have time to respond before the Thundercat ship was rocked by the beams, it jerked sideways and the unoccupied pod slammed into a stalagmite. Cheetara cried out as the whole ship spun sideways and crashed into the ground. Her body slid forward and she had to force herself to avoid hitting the glass of the cockpit.

There was an eerie silence that settled around the Thunderstrike pod. Cheetara could hear Lynx-O's breathing and was comforted somewhat that he was at least alive. But there had been an attack. In the pitch darkness of the Forest of Mists, she had no way of knowing who or even how many intruders there were. She wouldn't do any good sitting in here, she knew, and there was always the question of Lynx-O's safety. Cautiously, bo staff extended, she opened the canopy of her pod and felt her way over to the main section.

"Cheetara," a woman's voice said from somewhere. Her staff whipped around, clanging off the Thunderstrike. "What's the matter, Cheetara? Can't see in the dark?" The voice was mocking her and that angered her. Her staff jabbed in the direction of the voice.

"Who are you?" she demanded, straining with all her senses to find her enemy.

"Your destroyer!" Unseen hands grabbed her ankles and jerked her down, dragging her through the earth, as her staff clattered uselessly from her grip.

* * *

"The Sword of Omens!" Lion-O gasped, dropping the book he'd been reading. He was sitting in his bedroom at Cat's Lair when the mystic blade had cried out a danger sign. "Sword of Omens, give me sight beyond sight!" he demanded, drawing the sword and holding it to his face. He watched, horrified, as a Lunatak woman attacked the Thunderstrike. Although the sword couldn't pierce the darkness of the Forest of Mists, he could hear the Lunar woman approaching Cheetara's position, threaten her and then drag her away. He could also see Lynx-O, slumped against the console of the Thunderstrike.

"What is it Lion-O?" Snarf asked, jumping from the window to Lion-O's side.

"It's the Lunataks, Snarf. They've broken the treaty."


	3. Chapter 3

Return To Power by Jonathan J. Prideaux  
Chapter 3

When all the Thundercats in Cat's Lair were gathered, and a video link was established with the Thundercats in the Tower of Omens, Lion-O repeated for them what he had seen in with the Eye of Thundera. The looks of his peers ranged from anger to shock to sadness, emotions that were conflicting within him as well. Panthro, predictably, was the first to speak. "We can't let the Lunataks get away with this. I say we attack their city at once!"

"Think, Panthro. They outnumber us five hundred to ten," Tygra replied, he was the rational one, the one Lion-O knew he could count on for his best advice. Lion-O internally agreed with Panthro, he wanted vengeance for such a blatant attack, but Tygra was also right. Even before the incident the Lunataks outnumbered them, now that Cheetara was prisoner and Lynx-O was unavailable they were at a greater loss.

"We can't just leave her at the mercy of those savages," Wily Kat said, remembering Knave's chilling threat to eat him. "Who knows what they're doing to her."

"Something is preventing me from finding out what's happening to her," Lion-O said, he'd tried while waiting for everyone to be assembled and had been met with static. It was frustrating, but he remained confident that she was alive. Surely the Sword would tell him that much.

"We will find out what happened, but we can't go in there all guns blazing, it won't do us any good." Tygra sighed heavily. If there weren't Darklings around, he would have suggested doing a reconnaissance mission with his invisibility. "Do you suppose we can negotiate her return?"

Panthro snorted, and Bengali concurred with the unspoken remark. "Negotiate with them? Look what happened when we tried to trust them once, it cost us Cheetara."

"What about Mandora?" Snarfer suddenly said. "Maybe we could ask Control for help. They've got the manpower."

"If it isn't too late to help Cheetara," Wily Kit mumbled.

"I agree with Snarfer. We can't fight them on our own, so why not bring in some backup? In the meantime, we'll contact the Lunataks, find out what they want in return for her safe release," Lion-O said, considering what his friends had said. "Contact the rest of the people on Third Earth; the warrior maidens, the Tuskas, and so on. If there's going to be a fight, we're going to need all the help we can get. We need to convince them that if the Lunataks do defeat us, they will surely move on to take the rest of the planet."

The meeting broke quickly, each Thundercat being given an assignment and hurrying off to do their duty.

* * *

Chilla was waiting impatiently at the gathering point for the jungle clearing duties. Auralin hadn't arrived yet, though she'd heard from some of the others that he was always on time, she was just early. There were about ten of them in total, each sporting small arms in addition to whatever personal abilities they had. She doubted severely whether any of them had seen much hand to hand combat, though an Icewalker from House Kolrad looked promising. She would be hindered by the humid jungles, if Chilla's own personal experience was anything to go by. It seemed, looking from one to another, that this group was largely for those deemed as 'troublemakers' in the hopes that one of them would be killed off.

The arrival of Psychro elicited a groan from the Icewalker woman, both of them Chilla realized. Were there any women that Psychro hadn't been involved with? Psychro had been determined to add her to his list since the day he'd met her, even going so far as to dress like her former bonding partner Ren. It wouldn't surprise her in the least if she found out that he'd arranged to be put on this squad in some vain attempt to impress her, or with the hopes he'd get to rescue her and earn her favour. "Chilla!" he shouted, jogging over to her. She contemplated freezing him before he got close, but figured she didn't want to know where the troublemakers of the troublemaker brigade were sent.

"What do you want?" she said icily.

He glanced around, that stupid grin on his face that drove her nuts, "Looks like we're working together. Don't worry, you can count on me."

"Yes. I can count on you to need rescuing. If you do, I won't be helping," she replied, stiffly turning away.

"Oh don't be like that," he chased after her, and it was a blessing for both of them that Auralin picked that moment to arrive. Immediately the entire group went over to receive their orders.

"You will be divided into four teams, and each assigned a different section of the jungle. Use your judgement. If anything attacks you, kill it and bring it in. If it looks dangerous kill it and bring it in. You get the idea," he said. His voice was nasally and irritating, quite unlike most other Psions that Chilla had met, he sounded like Alluro sometimes did when he had a cold.

The group was divided, inevitably she found herself in the same group as Psychro and the other Icewalker, and she wondered if this was part of Aristarchus' punishment; it probably was. Soon the group was slipping deep into the jungle.

* * *

"Are you joking?" Tygra fumed, staring in shock at Mandora. He had taken on the responsibility of contacting the Interplanetary Control Force's agent for the region, a long time friend of the Thundercats, to ask for their help and was not pleased with the response.

"The law never jokes," Mandora replied, her normally flat monotone voice betraying the emotions she felt. "I'm sorry, Tygra, but their word is final. We cannot interfere until we have solid evidence that a crime has been committed, and hearsay from the Sword of Omens isn't enough. I know that Lion-O isn't lying, and I trust you Thundercats as much as the law allows, but it would never stand up in a court of law. Too many people would accuse you of bias and of fabricating what he saw."

Tygra bit back his immediate response. He was all for letting government and politics work, but disliked the slow pace they were taking under the circumstances. He and Cheetara were friends. No, that wasn't quite accurate; they were family. Losing Cheetara to the Lunataks was unacceptable, and his expression showed it.

"Look, Thundercat, there is some hope. I've been authorized to launch an investigation into the matter. I will need to inspect the crash site, speak with Lion-O, Lynx-O and the Lunataks. If there's evidence to be found, I'll find it," she said. "I should be there in the next day or two. Don't do anything foolish before then."

That was as much as she could do, Tygra knew. They hadn't known Mandora for too long, but all of their encounters had been friendly. Lion-O had even helped the evil chaser on a case or two. And she was right, she was the best in the force, she would find the smallest piece of evidence and nail the Lunataks. "Thank you," he said, switching off the view screen. He looked over where Lion-O was sitting, trying to get a hold of Aristarchus in New Lunis and dealing with a rude operator. The Lord was becoming visibly frustrated, so he calmly went over and placed a hand on his shoulder, reassuring his friend that things would work out. He just hoped that the others were having better luck.

* * *

At the Tree Top Kingdom, Wily Kit and Wily Kat were having an easier time convincing the Warrior Maidens that they needed help. Though the maidens were technologically inferior to the Lunataks, they made up for their shortcomings through bravery and intelligence. Their sheer numbers, and their adaptability to life in the woods made them ideal allies. "All of Third Earth is in your debt, a thousand times over," Queen Willa told the kittens, in the sanctuary of her tree hut. She arranged for a small lunch to be provided and continued. "It is an honour for us to begin repaying that debt. We've had our dealings with the Lunataks, and if they have done what you say then there is no doubt in my mind that they won't stop with the destruction of the Thundercats. Poor Cheetara, I can't imagine what those brutes are doing to her."

She gazed mournfully out the window, remembering fondly the first time she'd met the Thunderian woman. Her people had largely kept to themselves, having an innate distrust of outsiders, and men in particular. The only reason they ever made contact with the outside world was in order to keep their tribe alive, capturing men and using them to impregnate a woman or two. When the Thundercats arrived the maidens had viewed them suspiciously, watching their actions closely. Willa had been impressed with the fighting spirit of Cheetara, a woman so bold and confident that she seemed to belong to the village. Many times since that first meeting, Cheetara had proven herself to be a true friend as well as a fighter.

Willa realized with a start that she'd been ignoring the kittens, and saw fear etched on their faces. They were so determined to be brave Thundercats that it was hard to remember sometimes that they were still effectively children. They had lost a woman who was like a mother to them and her heart ached for their sakes as well. She gathered them close and hugged them tightly. "Don't worry, we'll bring her back," she assured them.

* * *

"The Lunataks kidnapped Cheetara? Oh, they have gone too far!" said the Snow Man of Hook Mountain, trembling with such rage. Snow Meow, his faithful steed, roared in agreement.

"I know. We're going to get her back as soon as possible. Can we count on you for help?" Bengali asked.

"By the snows of Hook Mountain, I will be there for the Thundercats when they call."

* * *

The Thundertank wasn't really designed for travel through the Forest of Mists. Even with the strongest headlights available the going was slow and visibility was reduced to barely a few feet around. Panthro and Pumyra had taken on the responsibility of traversing the Forest in the hopes of recovering the Thunderstrike and, more importantly, Lynx-O.

They were almost there when Pumyra finally asked the question that had been bothering her the last little while. "Why did they take Cheetara, but leave Lynx-O? Why not take them both?"

She saw Panthro's eyes flick over to her and knew that he'd been wondering the same thing. "Maybe they didn't see him, or maybe they thought he was dead. Either way I don't like it. These Lunataks aren't stupid. If they left him behind there's probably a reason for it." He pulled sharply to one side as they came upon the first piece of wreckage, a piece of metal that had been sheered off. That meant they were getting closer, so he slowed down even more. It wouldn't do to run over the elderly Thundercat while trying to help him.

"Surely the sword would have told us if he were..." Pumyra found herself unable to voice the gnawing fear that Lynx-O was indeed dead. She had always known that he would probably die before she did, based solely on the differences in their ages, and certainly she knew that anyone could be killed at any time, especially where such creatures as the Lunataks were concerned. But she'd grown so accustomed to him being around. She had been friends with him back on Thundera, before the explosion, and along with Bengali, the three of them had been rescued by a friendly pair of Berbils, lived as a community on a desert island, and been captured by the Berserkers. So many events that they'd lived through together.

Panthro didn't respond, and she appreciated it. He was more cynical than she was, and might not have had anything reassuring to say. They had arrived at the downed Thunderstrike anyway, the lights of the Thundertank barely illuminating the canopy of the main flight pod. She climbed out and moved to open the door so that she could get inside. She accessed the buttons at the side of the pod, and the hatch opened wide. She saw Lynx-O rise from beneath the control panel and 'look' in her direction, ears straining. "Is that you, Cheetara?" he asked. "No! It's Pumyra! What are you doing here?" She felt a wave of relief wash over her and she rushed to embrace him.

"Panthro and I came to find you," she said. "Are you all right?"

"I am. I was just trying to fix the radio so I could call for help. The Thunderstrike is heavily damaged, as you can see. We were attacked by a woman, and I tried to maintain control but... where's Cheetara?" Lynx-O's voice grew unsteady. In the faint light she could make out a bandage wrapped around his head, and assumed he'd done his own field repairs. He must have suffered a blow to the head, and had thus been unaware of what had happened to Cheetara.

There was a muffled crunch of footfalls on rock as Panthro appeared at her side. "Same thing that's been happening around Third Earth, from the looks of it. I found Cheetara's staff, I nearly ran over it with the tank, and the ground's been disturbed there, just as it's been for the other abductions. Those blasted Lunataks have been busier than we thought," he replied, holding out Cheetara's trademark weapon.

"Perhaps my braille board detected something from the attack," Lynx-O mused, reaching into the Thunderstrike to retrieve it. "It was recording even while I was unconscious."

"Lion-O was hoping that the Thunderstrike could be gotten out of here, but it's not looking good. This pod," Panthro tapped the pod that Cheetara had been in, "should be serviceable, and the centre might get by with some quick repairs, but the other pod is totally shot... If we can disengage it from the Thunderstrike, on the other hand, the Thundertank might be able to tow the worst of it out."

The Panther was clearly talking more to himself than either of them, so Pumyra took the opportunity to inspect Lynx-O's wound. There was a large gash, from where his head had hit the window, but it had stopped flowing. When they got back to the Tower she would clean it thoroughly, but decided to leave it for now. Otherwise there didn't seem to be any major injuries. A few bruises, and a heavy heart for Cheetara's safety, but nothing that wouldn't heal with time.

* * *

Snarf walked along the road, heading back to Cat's Lair from the Berbil village. The robotic bears knew that they would be ineffective in combat, even likely being a hindrance to them, but they were eager to help in any way that the Thundercats needed. They had had too many nasty encounters with the Lunataks and didn't seem surprised to hear that the truce had been broken; disappointed yes, but not surprised. They had also told Snarf about the mystery surrounding the Lunatak supply ship, that had been attacked, leaving one dead and two missing. Apparently a Darkling named Stalker had been asking them a lot of questions.

This threw a metaphorical wrench into things, where old Snarf was concerned. If the Lunataks had lost people to whatever was happening, then perhaps they weren't behind the attacks on the rest of Third Earth like he had initially thought. Even if they had decided to stage a capture to throw off suspicion, why would they kill one of their own? Or was he expecting too much out Lunataks? Maybe they had planned on killing whomever it was anyway and thought that this might be a perfect opportunity. Maybe killing friends for the sake of a ruse was the Lunatak way. Either way, this wasn't an area that would be judged by him. He was only a nursemaid and cook, neither profession making him suitable to make such decisions. He would report his findings to Lion-O and the rest of the Thundercats and let them deal with it.

* * *

Aristarchus' scowl would have made most operator's wither, but not Chillaura, disappointingly. The young woman, of Psion/Icewalker descent returned the scowl with a look that said 'I don't care that this call is coming at an inopportune time, I was busy doing my nails when it came in, so take it so that I can get back to work.' It was infuriating when people didn't snap to attention or cower before him. When he'd been in power on the Moons of Plundarr he had had that respect, that fear. This far from home, it gave people backbones of steel. Finally deciding that he wasn't going to put of the conversation any longer, he settled in front of a small monitor to deal with the Lord of the Thundercats.

"Ah, Lion-O, I'm sorry to keep you waiting. I was just attending to some other matters. What do you want?" he said, fighting to maintain a semblance of diplomacy. He wished that he had one of his telepaths present to read the Thundercat's mind for him, but such a luxury was not afforded him at the present.

"And what other matters are those? Torturing a Thundercat prisoner?" Lion-O snapped.

Aristarchus jumped in surprise, partly grateful to see the one known as Tygra whisper harshly in Lion-O's ear. It gave him a chance to think more clearly about what had been said. A Thundercat was obviously missing, and they suspected the Lunataks of it? "I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about. We don't have any Thundercats here at all, which I have been meaning to speak to you about. You were supposed to be dropping off supplies hours ago," he said.

Tygra and Lion-O had a longer whispered conversation. "Our ship was en route to deliver those supplies," Lion-O's voice sounded strained, ill concealing the anger beneath, "when it was shot down by a Lunatak woman. We want to negotiate for Cheetara's safe return. Name your price and we will try and meet it."

 

"Now I wish that I did have Cheetara, a lovely woman from what I've seen, but I have no idea what you're talking about."

"You lie! I saw it with my own eyes. One of your people..."

"Then perhaps your eyes lie," Aristarchus cut him off, growing annoyed at the accusations. These were unlike anything he'd heard of the Thundercats, such peace loving people, and here was their leader, insulting him. "I suggest to you that what you saw was doubtless an imposter, posing as a Lunatak to smear our good name or, though it's highly unlikely that I wouldn't have heard of it, these may be the actions of a rogue Lunatak acting independently. Just because you think you saw a Lunatak committing a crime does not mean that all Lunataks are guilty."

"The Eye of Thundera would see through any illusion. The people of Third Earth will not stand idly by and allow you to enslave its people."

"I tire of this conversation. I have made my case, but you clearly don't believe me. I am severing our ties then, and suggest you keep out of Dark Side. We do not have Cheetara, but we also will not hesitate to destroy you." He ended the transmission with the flick of a switch and turned in his chair. The Thundercats would come, he knew, they would not rest until they had searched every inch of New Lunis looking for Cheetara; which meant he had to find her first.

* * *

Chilla recognized this stretch of the jungle, as she used to tease Alluro mercilessly about his encounters with the giant bees that lived nearby. The bees were generally content to leave intruders alone unless one was foolish enough to get close to their nests, which were impossibly high in the sky. Josa and Psychro followed behind, with the latter trying stare through her cape if she knew him.

They had only been hunting for about an hour, killing one razor toothed creature that bore a vague resemblance to Jackalman, if he were inclined to walk on all fours. Chilla wasn't sure what the natives called it, but she and the Lunataks had always called it Jackalman's Ancestor. Actually, the creature was nothing like the Mutant, being a fierce fighter and very brave. It made the cry of a wounded animal to lure any predators in its territory to it and shredded them with it's teeth and claws. The three Icewalkers had encased it in ice and sliced its throat open. A nice clean kill that they had already dropped off for examination and potentially food.

The kill had excited her, in ways that only a true Icewalker would understand. The thrill of the hunt and watching the life fade from a creature's eyes was intoxicating, she really had missed this part of her life on Third Earth.

Of course, ordinarily an Icewalker would only share this experience with someone they liked or could trust. Psychro was neither, and she knew very little about Josa to make such a claim. "So, how are you and Red Eye doing?" Psychro asked, suddenly, making her wonder how long he'd been waiting to ask that question.

She snorted at him in response. It was a noise that she intended to mean that it was none of his business, but that he read plenty into. He was an expert on relationships and the way people spoke and acted when they were both in and out of love. Her one little snort, combined with a slight bunching of the shoulders, and an involuntary twitch of the hand told him that the relationship was over and was just waiting for them to notice.

"Well, you know if you ever get tired of him, that I'm available," he said. She could feel his weak hypnotic charm chipping at her resistence, trying to soften her feelings for him. Her feelings, however, were reenforced by his need to use the charm. There was a difference in her books between making someone like you and forcing someone to like you, even Alluro had never dared that.

"You aren't satisfied with..." Chilla's voice trailed off as she decided to needle him. "Who are you sleeping with this week? What are you up to, since we came here, four? Five?" Out of the corner of her eye she saw that Josa looked very uncomfortable, confirming Chilla's belief that the two had had something at one point.

"I'm my own worst enemy, Chilla. I enter relationships I know are doomed to fail, for what woman could possibly compare to you? They don't have the beauty or the spirit that you have, and so they don't last..." he almost managed to sound sincere enough that she felt flattered, but not enough to sway her. Nor did his sudden smug transformation. "Wait a minute. You've been keeping track of my status? You're jealous of them, aren't you, wishing that you had taken me up on the offer."

She laughed. It was a hearty laugh, and it felt good. "Jealous? Me?" she scoffed, turning to meet him. "Jealous of a strumpet who can spread her legs? If you must know, Tug Mug feels it's his duty to report who you're doing." Psychro and Josa both managed to look hurt, though Psychro's felt more sarcastic. Well, Chilla didn't care about their happiness. If Josa couldn't handle the truth, it was her own fault.

"So you're saying I could have my way with Josa right now and it wouldn't bother you?"

"Seeing you naked? That would bother me, and earn you an icing. Now hurry up, we've wasted too much time as it is."

* * *

Zanaya stood in the training yard, watching the handful of soldiers go through their routines. With such a small population, everyone was expected to assist in military matters, but only a few were on permanent duty, rotating between training, policing, a standard patrols. The training yard was really only a large field divided into sections. An obstacle course, some free weights, a firing range, and another section devoted to power usage. There was a track circling the yard, which could be dangerous depending on who was using the range.

Although everyone was permitted to use the facilities, provided they checked in at the gate, Zanaya was under strict instructions to minimize the amount of physical activity she took part in, causing her to curse again the father of her child. Krystalin was safely in the care of Mystan and Lura at present, who were going over some strategies with the rest of the New Lunis council, which was just one less headache for her to deal with.

A pair of Gravitons were using the free weights when she approached, and she ignored the stench of their bodies as they sweated bacon grease, and their crude catcalls. Soon she would lose the weight she'd put on and be back to her normal figure, slender and physically fit, attributes critical for her assassin background. Very soon, she assumed, she would be ready to track down Knave and kill him.

* * *

Lion-O stood as the last of the reports came in from the Thundercats. A monitor had been set up to allow those in the Tower of Omens to take part in the discussions. Things were generally positive, with a few exceptions. The people of Third Earth were inclined to help the Thundercats, especially in light of all the times that the Thundercats had helped them. They also realized that if the Thundercats lost the battle, that the Lunataks would be unstoppable.

Of course, Lion-O wasn't sure how likely a battle was, to begin with. Mandora's message was clear; leave the Lunataks alone until I get there, and he had to admit that it was sound from a strictly logical stand point. The people of Third Earth were loyal and courageous, but against the kind of might the Lunataks possessed, it was bleak. What good would bows and arrows do against guns and psionic powers? Could the Tuskans rifles stand up to balls of fire and ice storms? These villages had been targets ever since Mumm-Ra had freed the Lunataks from their lava prison, and more than once just six of them had taken over those villages.

But there was a personal issue involved, and that could not be disputed. The Lunataks had Cheetara, and he could only imagine the horrible things happening to her. What manner of torture were they using on her this very instant? Lion-O could tell, just from looking around the table, that his compatriots were thinking the same thing.

To cloud things even more was Snarf's report from the Berbils and Aristarchus' own denials. Was it possible? Could there be a rogue Lunatak? A shape changer who was trying to stir things up? All manner of possibilities lay open, and he didn't know where to look.

"You've all heard the reports," he said at last, "Mandora wants us to wait, but I think I speak for all of us when I say that I'm not comfortable doing that. Two days in the hands of those fiends could mean her death sentence, assuming that Mandora even finds Cheetara. We need to act now, start our own investigation. Tygra, if we get you into Dark Side do you think you could sneak into the city?"

"They'll have Darklings watching, but there are other methods of stealth than my invisibility," Tygra nodded.

"Good. Bengali and I will drop you off when we go inspect the Forest of Mists. Hopefully our attacker left us a clue. Snarf and the Thunderkittens will see where the Lunatak ship was attacked and see what they can find there. Panthro, you continue working on repairing the Thunderstrike. If there is going to be a battle, we're going to need it. Snarfer and Pumyra will watch the Lair and the Tower, while Lynx-O rests. Good luck, my friends."

* * *

They were evacuating the city on Thundera. Cheetara had received word from the council that they were abandoning the planet, before its destruction. Each Thundercat was told to collect whatever they could carry of their personal effects and then assist in getting everyone else to their ships. It was a sad time indeed, many would be turned away. It wasn't fair, but life rarely was. She tossed her two large bags on her bed and scanned the room, trying to decide in a glance what could be replaced and what she would want. A collection of books went in one, a photo album, a locket that had belonged to her great-grandmother. How did one boil their life down to just a few objects? The objects weren't really important, they were just things. She had her friends, most of whom she figured would escape. It was the ones who wouldn't, for whatever reasons, that she would miss most.

She wrapped a warm blanket around her shoulders and picked up the two bags, weighing heavily on her back, and stared one last time at the room. She would never see it again. As she emerged, she saw Panthro carrying a large duffel bag and a toolbox. He bore the same look on his face as she did. A profound sadness that things were ending and they had been chosen to live while others died. As they jogged through the halls to the waiting flagship, she knew that each Thundercat would have gladly given up their spot for the sake of another Thunderian, surrendering their lives so that another might live. It was part of being a Thundercat. But they also had a duty to fulfill, to ensure that Lion-O escaped and could lead his people back to their former glory. Jaga met them at the door to the ship. "Once you drop off your belongings, get to your posts. Things are worse than we'd feared. We must depart at once!"

* * *

She woke with a start, realizing almost at once that she neither on the flagship of the Thundercats, nor in Cat's Lair. Instead she was in a cave with a half dozen others. She could tell by the moans that there was another cave adjacent with even more people. A trio of Lunataks, including Knave, were there, as was a Wollo and a Berbil. They all looked strange, somehow, almost as though they were malnourished.

There was also a heavy fog circling around her, and she realized with a start that it seemed to be sentient. "Yes, I am. And I enjoyed your dream. So noble, your people are, such slaves to your duty."

"Who... Who are you?" she asked, trying to discern which way was its front.

"We call it Nightshade, it's never given us its real name," the Wollo said feebly. "It lives off the life energy of its victims." That explained why they all looked underfed, at least, though she didn't relish finding out first hand how it operated.

"You don't deserve to know it. You're my meals, not my friends. Not that knowledge would do you much good anyway. You will die like all the others in time. I have been curious for some time what a Thundercat tastes like. Knave tastes exquisite, and I wondered if it was the Lunatak side or Thunderian side that adds so much flavour. Maybe it's both. I could arrange for that, but I don't want to wait nine months for my next meal," Nightshade said, teasingly.

The spirit seemed amused by the looks of disgust and hatred on Cheetara's face as a momentary image of mating with an Icewalker crossed her mind, and the prospect of Nightshade killing the baby.

"It also likes the sound of its voice," Spitfire managed a half chuckle, as the fog whirled on her. When it appeared that she had managed to enrage the spirit the Icewalker woman recoiled and cowered behind Paeder's shoulder. A tendril of smoke caught her ankle, causing Spitfire to shriek, a keening sound that reverberated off the walls, deafening the others.

Cheetara threw herself at the spirit, claws bared, slashing futilely at it, trying to ignore the numbing feeling in her arms where they touched the fog. Nightshade finally drew himself through the force field and regarded the Thunderian woman, whose arms dropped limply to her sides. "Pitiful attempt," he said, "I am invincible, and the sooner you accept that the better. Not bad, though, very succulent. I'll have to remember that." Then the spirit was gone, slipping through the curtain to his room.

She sank to the ground next to where Spitfire was, the latter shivering uncontrollably, the skin on her leg almost showing the bone, it was stretched so tight. "Don't you think we've tried to fight him?" Paeder snapped, consoling her kinswoman as best she could.

"Shut up Paeder," Knave replied, looking groggily in the direction of the three women. "You were no better when you came. At least you did better than your friend did."

Cheetara shuffled over to him, and placed a hand on his arm. He was looking just as poor as the others, more so in some ways, but she could tell that the spirit was treating him differently. He, apparently, tasted unique and so it seemed that Nightshade was measuring out how much of his energy to take. "What do you mean?" she asked, suspecting that the other two wouldn't be as forthcoming with the details. Icewalkers were a proud people, and didn't like admitting to failures.

Knave rested his head on her shoulder, dropping his voice to a whisper. "We think it doesn't like the cold. It looked like Paeder's ice really hurt it, when Spitfire's flames didn't." She nodded in understanding. She didn't know what to make of the information, but it had to be useful.

A bulb went off in her head. "Evil in the dark... horrors lurk below... life traded for life... cold against heat... she will save us... he will rise again." Cold against heat? Had the rock Alluro found been telling them how to defeat Nightshade? Evil in the dark and horrors below certainly sounded like what was going on. Life for life could be the life stealing that Nightshade was doing. But who, then, was the 'she' and how would she save them? Who would she save? The Ancient Spirits? She needed more information, so she prodded Knave for answers.

* * *

"Where's the Icewalker delegation?" Stalker demanded. He, along with the rest of Aristarchus' council, had arrived for an emergency meeting. Frankly, Aristarchus would have preferred meeting with only his trusted advisors, but keeping all the moons involved was deemed diplomatic by Luna. Around the table were Tug Mug and Soot Foot, representing the Graviton moon, Mystan and Alluro of the Psions, with Stalker and Red Eye representing the Darklings.

"Paeder is still unaccounted for and Chilla is otherwise busy," he explained. The Icewalkers were reluctant to name a successor for Paeder, believing that she would turn up. They would need one for Chilla too, if his plans went well. He might even put pressure on them to name Josa to that spot, for valour. He liked rewarding his allies and punishing his enemies.

"We should wait for Chilla," Red Eye said stubbornly. Aristarchus recalled hearing the scuttlebutt that the two were an item, which made picking his words important.

"I'm afraid that matters are urgent enough that we can't wait for her. I will see to it personally that she finds out about what happened here. I could fetch an Icewalker from the hall if it would make the Darklings happy," he said.

"That won't be necessary. What's this about?" Stalker conceded before Red Eye could jump in. The latter had been feeling especially protective of Chilla ever since the confrontation between himself and Mystan the previous day, and Stalker feared that he might say something inappropriate that would derail this meeting. As Aristarchus explained the conversation with Lion-O, he was grateful he had shut up Red Eye. "I haven't heard anything about any of our people abducting any Thundercats, but you can bet that they won't believe you. They'll come sooner or later."

"I agree. Our fortifications aren't ready yet, so I suggest we step up efforts," Mystan said, stroking his chin in thought. "I wager they'll send Tygra in ahead, invisible. The Darklings should keep a sharp eye out for him."

"Agreed. In the meantime, I want your telepaths to scan everyone in the city. If anyone knows anything about Cheetara's disappearance, I want to know about it." He scanned the table, watching for any curious behaviours or reactions. Nothing seemed hugely out of the ordinary. Red Eye still seemed agitated, but that was easily dismissed as being anxiousness over Chilla. There was, however, something odd about Alluro. He seemed distracted by something. He made a note to tell Mystan to start with him.

* * *

The time is near... rivers of blood... friend turned against friend... death born of fear... It was like trying to determine the whole of a puzzle by looking at a few pieces. Something told Alluro that the recent vision he'd gotten from the stone was talking about this. The Lunataks and Thundercats had formed a friendship of sorts, and there promised to be a conflict, was it really born of fear? Did suspicion of kidnapping count as fear? His brain hurt trying to figure it all out. Really, he knew that he should have brought up the stone to Aristarchus, but then there would be accusations, and then Mystan would probably confiscate it.

He paused mid stride. This was not the time to think about it. Now was the time to set up mental barriers to prevent Mystan's cronies from finding out about this. He rushed to his room and locked the door.

* * *

Back on the moons of Plundarr, Tycho watched Nitro's first message again; recorded the previous day he talked about the few things he'd noticed thus far, and especially about the two fights he'd been in. Tycho couldn't say he was thrilled to hear that his spy was brawling, nor that he'd lost one of those fights, but he was less pleased by the reports that the relationship with the Thundercats didn't seem as cordial as when he had been in command. Back then Tycho had realized that the only way to survive was to rely on the support of the felines, and worry about conquering them at a much later date when things were settled. The Thundercats were a friendly people, who liked sharing with their allies, they could be exploited to some degree and then defeated if necessary. Heck, a part of him didn't even think *that* needed to be done. A peaceful alliance was possible.

Luna would be horrified to hear such thoughts, but he actually was putting past grievances behind him. The Thundercats were something to admire, with their devotion to each other and their Code of Thundera. It was so vastly different from the usual politicking that he'd been accustomed to as king of the moons. Luna would be even more horrified that in the sexual play, he'd had Darius shape change into Tygra recently.

He turned off the computer and glanced back into the kitchen where Darius was making lunch. Aristarchus was still governor, and was therefore free to run things however he wanted. Tycho didn't have to like it, but unless he was willing to re-accept the post there was nothing he could do.

* * *

Elsewhere on the same moon, likewise checking personal messages, Psikaris watched Psychro's blessing to their bonding, and played it again for Cameo. "Well, he took that better than I thought he would," Cameo said, kissing her lightly on the top of her head.

"Oh he's a big softy," she replied, as she sat with him behind her. It had been awkward between the two of them ever since that night. She staunchly avoided alcohol after that, fearing a repeat performance despite his assurances to the contrary, and was hesitant to do too much cuddling as that was what had landed her in this predicament in the first place. On the other hand, soon there wouldn't be that personal taboo against sex, nor did it matter right now what he did, as she couldn't really get more pregnant. All the same, she had her convictions. While she knew he would respect them she could also see how much it tore at him.

"Yeah, well, he's a womanizing softy," he chuckled, though she knew there was dislike about it. "A little overprotective, but I can respect that. Besides, he's right to feel that way. A woman as pretty as you is probably beating guys back with sticks." His hands were on her shoulders, gently kneading her tender flesh.

She had no illusions about her appearance; guys seemed to find her attractive, and that was that. Of all the suitors she'd had, Cameo was the one most willing to look past her appearance and see the woman inside, loving her for who she was. That was one of the things that endeared him to her; that boundless love he felt, enough to make up for the times when she was too lost in her work to pay him any mind. And he didn't seem to care that there were days when she would rather spend time going over a technical manual than snuggled in his arms because he knew that eventually she would come to him and enjoy that too.

And it wasn't even that she didn't find him attractive, far from it. There were days when she would see him heading for the shower that she would find herself aroused at the sight of him and she schooled herself to push those feelings down, reminding herself that she would have all the sex she could handle once they were properly bonded. It was difficult on them, probably him more so than her, she figured. She, at least, was able to hold those feelings back. She remembered last week when she'd been excited by the latest upgrade on a piston configuration that she'd burst into his room unannounced and found him making his own piston movements. It was only their mutual embarrassment that helped her close the door instead of joining him.

"Now that we've heard from him, we should talk dates. It will take a week for him to get back, and it would be nice if he was here well before that. We can't wait too long or else it will be very obvious why we're bonding now and..." she started, trying to derail her thoughts.

He didn't help matters by kissing her firmly on the lips. "You're rambling," he whispered, gently moving a strand of hair behind her ears. She shivered at the touch, and didn't want it to stop. She unconsciously leaned towards him, yearningly, but he stepped back. "I'd better get back to work. I'll see you when I get back."

She watched him go, content. He loved her. He respected her. The feeling was mutual... And that bonding ceremony couldn't come soon enough.

* * *

The air was still stifling hot for the Icewalker trio as they walked deeper into the jungle. Strictly speaking, Chilla didn't understand why this section needed to be checked out; it was far enough away from both the city and the logging camp that any wildlife wouldn't cause any trouble. Still, orders were orders and she was walking on thin ice as it was with Aristarchus. While Josa was walking along quietly, the same could not be said for Psychro. They finally came to a halt near a small pond, though calling it a pond was a bit of an overstatement. The water was barely a foot deep and was scarcely a metre wide. Still, it seemed like a good place to stop for a quick break. It would be time to make their way back to the meeting point soon anyway.

Chilla was removing her boot to dislodge a stone when she saw a Torfubeast. It was easily the size of two Gravitons, and had a horn sprouting from beneath the jaw. It was generally a gentle creature, but was vicious when it was cornered and it also had tasty flanks, unless Red Eye was cooking it. She winced at the memory of his name, and all the home cooked meals he'd tried to prepare for her; he seemed to like them, but just looking at them made her stomach churn.

"I'm going to go relieve myself," Josa said, and Chilla waved her off. It meant she was alone with Psychro, but he seemed content to refill his water bottle. She bet he didn't even see the Torfubeast at the other end of the small clearing, heading to get a drink itself. Gradually she sighed and closed her eyes.

She was half-asleep when she heard Psychro shout and looked over in time to see the beast charging at him. It closed the gap between them and hooked him under the arm with its horn, launching him several feet away. Chilla wasn't even aware of getting to her feet, until she realized that she was running towards the pair. She cursed him every name under the sun for managing to provoke the creature while a more sarcastic side of her suggested that he'd tried hitting on it. She drew her gun and fired mid-stride, moments before the Torfubeast could ram its horn into Psychro's throat. The creature was bellowed, but dutifully collapsed. "What did you do?" she accused.

"I didn't do anything! It was drinking, I was drinking. Next thing I know I've got wild horny things coming at me," he said, still staring at the downed animal as it went through its death throes.

"Maybe it saw a fellow wild horny thing," Chilla snorted. He seemed genuinely surprised by the attack though, so it was possible he was telling the truth. Something caught her eye so she walked around the Torfubeast. A scorch mark? On its rump? "How..?" she started to ask, until the world went black.

* * *

Lura started the probing gently. The key to a good mind reading was if the recipient didn't know their minds were being read. She searched through Alluro's thoughts, looking for anything relating to Cheetara, and then wrinkled her nose. The Lunataks, under Luna, had battled the Thundercats on many occasions, so Alluro and Cheetara had had many encounters. There were numerous one on one encounters, but nothing that she would quantify as being terribly recent, certainly no abductions within the last twenty-four hours. She was about to give up and report her findings when she came across a section of the cranial landscape that she couldn't access. Some sort of wall was preventing her from exploring it.

What was he hiding here? What was so important that he would erect a barrier here? She tested it carefully with her senses, probing to see if there was an obvious weakness and knowing there would be none. Alluro was gifted, brilliant even, and there would be no flaws here. Certainly, given time she could break through, but he would be alerted to her presence and she doubted she could fight him here in the psychic plane. Slowly she pulled away. She would report it to Mystan and await further instructions.

* * *

"Josa?" Psychro began, watching as she walloped Chilla from behind. Before he could get up she had her gun pointed at him. "What are you doing?"

"Carrying out my orders," she replied and he saw a glint in her eye. "You managed to upset Aristarchus and he was very clear. You are not to come home alive. That beast should have killed you, if only that woman hadn't gotten involved." She turned her head and spat on Chilla's prone form. Psychro knew that if he could keep her talking long enough, he might be able to puzzle out an escape.

The Icewalker woman went on. "Although, what Aristarchus really wanted was you both out of the way, so I guess I can work this in my favour. Kill you, frame her for the murder. Who do you think Aristarchus will back, me or her?"

"And what do you get out of it?" Psychro asked. He knew he shouldn't interrupt, but curiosity got the better of him.

"Power. I have no chance on my own of having any power on the Ice Moon. Ninety percent of the population would have to die before I got my shot. But Aristarchus' favour is power itself, it lends me the prestige I need... And yet, I would have killed you even if he hadn't asked. You used me," she said, taking a step closer. He saw the hurt, he'd seen it written on the faces of so many. She'd loved him too much and couldn't let go.

"That's not my fault. When we met, I told you all about me, that we'd only last a couple of nights until I found the next one. I was straight forward and honest about that," he replied. It wasn't a tactic he used often, but some women only wanted that one night stand with a proficient lover.

"I thought I could change you. I thought you might actually love me once I gave myself to you," she was on the verge of tears, old memories and emotions bubbling to the surface. "And to make matters worse, not only did you leave me, you left me for a Snowskin. That bitch Paeder, someone who was going places. It made me so angry. Our rival House."

So that's what it was about. The Snowskins and the Kolrads were enemies, and he had gone to support the other team. An idea occurred to him. If he could tap into the old emotions, the love they'd shared, he might be able to get her to lower her guard. "You're right, Josa. I was an idiot then. I gave up on a woman who completed me for a quick grab for power. We're not that different. I saw a woman on the rise, Paeder's stock was rising, she would be high ranking on the flagship of the Icewalkers. I thought if I was with her I could gain the prestige. But it wasn't worth it. She was nothing compared to you, and it's a sadness I've long carried in my heart," he said, sending out waves of his charm. He'd had to try similar tactics before on jilted lovers, never quite so dire, but it had happened. Angry fathers and brothers were a little harder to try it on.

He saw her wavering, her hand drooped a little, as his words had the desired effect, "I know I don't deserve anything from you but would you give me one last kiss?" He widened his eyes and wet his lips, watching her resolve crumbling. Gradually, as though unconsciously, she knelt, letting her gun drop to the ground. She reached around and pulled his head close for the kiss, her lips pressing hard against his. She pulled back slightly, her eyes offering him much more than just a kiss, and saw his fist coming in fast.

* * *

Tygra ran hard across the uneven rocky ground, cloaked in his invisibility. It wouldn't do him much good once he got near the city, but at least predators would probably leave him alone. Bengali and Lion-O had dropped him off some time ago, leaving him with only the clothes he wore and his bola whip for protection. If things turned badly for him, he'd be on his own.

The city wasn't that far, located near the volcanoes and situated along a ridge. He knew there was a jungle nearby and a river at the bottom of the canyon. The question was where to start looking for Cheetara. Where would they keep her? In the dungeons of Sky Tomb? Would it be that obvious? His thoughts returned to the distinct possibility that Aristarchus really had nothing to do with the kidnapping. That sounded even less probable to his ears, and yet it was an option that needed to be considered.

He saw the first signs of life on the outskirts of the jungle. A group of eight or nine Lunataks were gathered and talking amongst themselves, glancing occasionally in the direction of the jungle. None of them seemed to be Darklings, so he took the chance to creep closer to them and listen in. There were three Lunataks missing, something about having failed to return for a debriefing. He heard Chilla's name mentioned and the hair on his back rose. Missing Lunataks? Three of them? Was it the same enemy that had been plaguing the rest of Third Earth or something else? Finally, the apparent leader of the group decided to give up waiting, and returned everyone to the city.

* * *

Among her ranking of places she didn't want to wake up, laying next to Psychro was number three behind a sacrificial altar and Tug Mug's bed. She was relieved to see she was at least wearing clothes. Memories came back to her and she was on her feet in a heartbeat. Josa was bound and gagged next to the deceased Torfubeast. Psychro smiled wryly from where he'd been laying, several feet away from her. "About time you woke up," he said, his voice and smug smile making her want to ice him, but not until she found out what had happened.

It took him a few minutes to fully relate what had happened. "...and when she pulled back, I hit her, tackled her to the ground and hogtied her. I thought about killing her, to be honest. Then I decided to wait for you to wake up. I couldn't very well carry both of you so I contented myself with laying here. You'll also be glad to know that I resisted the temptation to take a peak, though there was substantial leering."

She aimed a breath of ice at his legs, momentarily pinning him while she regarded Josa. "Why should we let you live?" she asked as she removed the gag. "You tried to kill him and set me up."

"Aristarchus won't let you get away with it!" She said, trying to look intimidating.

Instead Chilla laughed. "Aristarchus doesn't reward failure," she turned to Psychro, "I bet we bring her back with us she'll be found dead in a back alley within a week." Chilla took Josa's chin between her fingers and held the gaze for a long while. "We will let you live, if only because his pet telepaths would nail us for your murder. Enjoy what little time you have left." She rose and planted a kick in Josa's abdomen, making the other woman cry out pitifully. Then, forcing their prisoner to walk ahead of them, she and Psychro returned to New Lunis.

* * *

Tygra crept closer to New Lunis, following the make shift road to the sturdy walls that surrounded what there was of the city. Thick walls built for defence, from the Thundercats or the wildlife Tygra didn't know. He felt conspicuous, though, out in the open as he was.

He hated using his illusionary powers as they drained him swiftly, but under the circumstances he would gladly use up his reservoir of strength to help his friend. But it wasn't so simple to just throw up an illusion. The best disguise was a plausible disguise, especially with Darklings about. They would surely notice a discrepancy in body heat if he'd chosen Icewalker, and body mass if he'd picked Graviton. Instead he was a shorter than normal Psion; if anyone gave it serious thought, they might assume he was part Royal.

The road led through a large open gate, shaped like a crescent moon tilted on its side, and was guarded by a Darkling and a Graviton. The former examined him closely, while the latter yawned into a meaty fist, but both waved him on through. It seemed as though most of the work teams were coming back into the city now, which meant there was less fuss. He found the rough road to Sky Tomb and head in that direction.

* * *

The Ice/Cheetah hybrid had long fallen asleep on her shoulder, and she didn't want to disturb him. The Wollo, a farmer named Nomo, had explained that Nightshade was cruelly making sure that Knave had just enough energy to survive for another day. Just the thought of it made Cheetara shake with fury. He was a living being, he deserved better than this. She wasn't sure why, but she generally liked Knave. There was hope that he could be reformed into being more than what his father had raised him to be. He trusted her, which she had the sense was a rare thing, and she suspected it had something to do with his mother. Did she remind him of his mother in some way? It was plausible, but only he knew the truth.

She looked up to see a woman, a Darkling woman that looked familiar, shuffling around, having been staring into the pool visible by the magical light. The woman, she realized, reminded her of the brief glimpse she'd gotten of her attacker however long ago it was. As those ghostly hands dragged her through the ground, a fleeting image of that woman appeared before her, and yet it wasn't. This was an old woman, hardly capable of picking up a book, let alone dragging a full grown woman. Knave had spoken of her as being Shade, during one of his talkative spells, explaining that she and the spirit could bond together to become a young sorceress or some such.

"Your world is on the brink of war," Shade said sadly, seeing Cheetara looking in her direction. "The Thundercats blame the Lunataks, and the Lunataks are being stubborn. There will be much blood thanks to you."

"You're the one who kidnapped me. Send me back, and I'll set things right," Cheetara said, soliciting a laugh from both her cell mates and Shade.

"I would if I could, but defying Nightshade is a death sentence for myself and those I love. I'm sorry. I never wanted any of this. I just wanted my youth again. It's a terrible thing to grow old."

"Growing old is something we'll never get to do, so don't expect pity from us," Paeder retorted.

"I've done it!" Nightshade cried out from his curtained area. It parted and a young human male in the prime of his life, rippling muscles and bronzed skin, stood proudly, if naked, in the doorway. He moved his hands back and forth and took a few tentative steps. "I had enough energy to build this body. Now I don't need you, Shade. I'm going to go try it out." He rose through the dirt and vanished. Once he was gone, Cheetara saw immense fear in Shade. With her bargaining chip gone, those she cared about were now at risk.

* * *

*Thunk* The knife hit just a hair shy of the bullseye. Zanaya had returned to the room in Sky Tomb that she was temporarily sharing with Mystan and Lura. Krystalin lay on her bed, wrapped tightly in blankets, while her mother practised with her throwing knives. Ordinarily these could be coated with any manner of poisons, but for practice they weren't. As she retrieved her weapons, she looked over to see where her room mates were. Lura was sitting cross-legged on the carpet, while Mystan pored over what little information there was on the Thundercats.

She hurled her knife again, pleased when it hit where she'd aimed, and readied another one. When it came time to fight the Thundercats she wanted to be part of the action. That wretched child had prevented her from seeing a lot of conflict, first due to an overprotective father and then the pregnancy itself. Fighting these Thunderians might even help her get combat ready for that particular hunt. The next knife whistled through the air and missed by a good inch and she cursed quietly.

"Did you know Panthro is afraid of energy bats?" Mystan scoffed, as though this was the most ridiculous thing he'd ever read.

"That is insane," the next knife sank deep into the dart board, causing her to exert herself to retrieve it. "And how can we use it against him?"

"Well, it can't be too hard to replicate something like that..." Mystan began.

"Mystan!" Lura cried out, her eyes scrunched up in concentration.

"Did you find Cheetara?" he asked. Zanaya moved closer to the door to relay any instructions Mystan might have.

"No. Something else. I found Tygra."

* * *

There was a feeling of being watched that Tygra found a bit unnerving, so he tried ducking into a crowded bar to see if he could alleviate that feeling. It didn't work, but then he started thinking. It was only natural that he feel like that. He was in an enemy city, surrounded by people who would kill him if they knew what he truly was. It all made perfect sense. Perhaps if he just sat in the back and stayed put he could properly evaluate all his options.

He took a seat with his back to the door, people passing by were less likely to see him, his mind reasoned, and was surprised to find a clear blue drink being placed by his elbow. "On the house," the Graviton bartender said, "eet's on the house."

Well, that was very nice of him. Perhaps the Lunataks weren't quite as evil as he'd thought, which made his mission that much harder. Yes, his mission. He was supposed to be on a mission for the Thundercats, to spy on the Lunataks and see if he could find Cheetara. They didn't want to wait for Mandora to inspect New Lunis, they wanted to march in there with their armies.

The drink slid down his throat, tasting sweet and a little fruity. He liked it, really and he had a craving for another. He gestured to the bartender and ordered a second one, not thinking about how he was going to pay for it. The second went down like the first. Lion-O would love these too, Panthro probably. Those two normally didn't drink, but this? This was amazing. He found his mind opening up, all thoughts of being watched vanishing into a haze, as images of his friends danced in his head. He thought of their adventures, their strengths and their weaknesses. The joys and sorrows they'd had together.

"I've heard enough," he heard someone say. "Get the Thundercat!" Tygra lurched to his feet, knowing that they were talking about him. Somehow his cover was blown, but how? He reached for his bolo whip and saw it in the grasp of the bartender. He must have taken it while dropping off the drinks. The drinks! They explained why the world was spinning, and his arms felt like they were made of jelly. Mystan, who had been the speaker, approached him with a self-satisfied smirk on his lips. "Yes the drinks. But also the weak minds of Thundercats. You told us everything we needed to know, without us using torture. Oh, I can't say I'm pleased to be missing out on that, but I'm sure we can improvise. Guards, take him to the dungeons. I'm going to report our findings to Aristarchus."

* * *

At the exit to the Forest of Mists, in Dark Side, Lion-O looked around, trying to place the exact spot he'd seen the Lunatak woman through the Sword of Omens. He had Bengali take a few more steps to the left and still wasn't satisfied. Whatever tricks the Lunataks had used, they hadn't seemed to have left any clues behind.

He was about to suggest to Bengali that he try further back when the Sword of Omens cried out in warning; one of his Thundercats was in danger. Part of him hoped it was Cheetara so that they could pin down her location. "Sword of Omens," he said, raising the mystical blade to his face, "give me sight beyond sight!" Bengali's concerned face in the distance morphed into that of Tygra, the rocky plains turning into a bar full of Lunataks. He seemed unsteady on his feet as a pair of police rushed him. The colour drained from Lion-O's face, watching and unable to help as a second Thundercat was taken. "Get in the Thundertank," Lion-O said, choking back tears. "We have to tell the others."

* * *

"So. We are about to receive a visit from Mandora, while the people of Third Earth mass against us," Aristarchus said, soaking in the news from his chief aide. He and Mystan had a long history together. The Psion high priests, effectively the rulers of the Moon, had seen Aristarchus as their ticket to power and had thrown their favour behind him in the fight against Tycho, before Luna returned and took the throne. Mystan, he knew, wasn't a fan of the way Aristarchus went about things, but he could be trusted to speak his mind and give reasonable advice.

"I don't see how Mandora can side against us, if we put the right spin on it. Threats, espionage, invasion. We're actually the innocents in all of this, as much as it surprises me to say so. With the right push, we might even get Control on our side, helping us to force the Thundercats out of Dark Side," Mystan replied. They were seated in Aristarchus' office, formerly Luna's, in Sky Tomb.

"The only trouble is this business with Cheetara. I wish I knew where that blasted woman was. No matter, you're right. We have been invaded, and I think it's time we retaliated."

"Retaliate? Are you sure that's wise? If we wait for Control..." Mystan started.

"Yes, we must retaliate. The Thundercats have launched the first salvo against us, and we must counterattack. They won't wait for Control to come, and neither shall we. Prepare the armies, we attack tomorrow."

* * *

The sky was beginning to turn dark as Psychro, Chilla and their prisoner approached the gates to the city. Standing guard, and looking surprised at the procession, was Red Eye. Immediately he sprinted out to meet them, taking Chilla's shoulder in his hands. "Are you all right?" he asked, concerned. She pulled away.

"You and me need to talk," she said, and Psychro winced as he heard the words that no man wanted to hear. "But first we need to see the council."

* * *

Nightshade had been gone for several hours already, and the prospects of what he was doing made Shade uneasy. Was he taking more lives? Capturing more prey? How much life did he need anyway? She cast a furtive glance at the curtain that separated his room from the rest of the cave and debated how much time she would have to be in there. She walked over slowly, wondering whether he'd put any wards on the curtain to alert him to intruders. Carefully, taking one final glance over her shoulder, she pulled the edge back and peered into the darkness.

Although the mystical light from the cave proper wasn't shining brightly into the large recess, Shade was able to see better than most thanks to her Darkling heritage. There was a plethora of books strewn about, and she wondered where he had gotten them. Had they been Mumm-Ra's? There was also a pit carved into the floor that hadn't been here when he had first had her build these caves.

No noise outside yet, so Shade took a chance and moved into the room, knowing that she should take as little time as possible in case Nightshade found her in there. She didn't know what he would do if he caught her, but it would doubtless be horrible. He might even kill her, now that he didn't need her body.

The pit seemed to be at least four feet deep, and had three inches of some foul smelling liquid in the bottom. She couldn't tell what it was, so she left it alone and turned her attention to the books instead. One of them, a smallish red tome, was open on the floor. She found that she could make out many of the words, some sort of residual effect of having Nightshade in her mind she suspected, enough to realize that it was a spell to create life from life. She scanned the rest of the page quickly, but gave up when she realized that she wouldn't be able to either duplicate the spell's effect or reverse it.

She knew that somewhere in these books was the means of defeating Nightshade, either permanently or temporarily enough that she could make good an escape. Too long had he held her here, forced to do his will under threat of violence. In the bleak moments she'd thought of taking her life, but the Lunatak soul demanded vengeance, a price to be paid for what he'd put her through. She figured she'd taken long enough, there was no more to be learned right now, so she slipped back out into the cavern.

When Nightshade returned later, he was wearing a green and beige outfit and was carrying a struggling, if naked, Tuskan over his shoulder. He tossed the latter in one of the cells and smugly returned to his cave. Shade held her breath for a long minute, waiting to see if he'd noticed the intrusion, and only released it when she felt it safe. So there were no wards on the door. Good to know.

* * *

Tug Mug was away on other business, business involving a keg of ale that had just arrived by shuttle, but the rest of the council was present. Chilla stood at the front of the room with Psychro and Josa explaining what had happened with Psychro correcting as needed. The room was silent as the heavy charges were laid against Aristarchus. Murder wasn't unheard of amongst Lunataks, but getting caught was still a crime. But Aristarchus was a calculating man, not easily taken by surprise, and he managed to look shocked and offended by these accusations.

He also had a powerful ally sitting next to him in Mystan. Though telepathy wasn't his primary skill, he was adept at it enough to carry on simple conversations, and he did such with both Josa and Aristarchus, explaining what they would have to do. It started with the governor. "We've heard your version of the events, now let's hear Josa's," he said.

She wasn't a great actress, but fear was a keen motivator. Mystan had explained in great detail the consequences if she didn't pull this off. "Chilla didn't see what really happened," Josa said, shuddering as though recalling some traumatic event. "Once her back was turned to him he jumped up and hit her. I started to ask why he'd done that and he told me that it was so the two of us could have some alone time."

Psychro seemed about to protest but Aristarchus silenced him immediately. "You were given a chance to speak, now it's hers," he said.

"We dated a long time ago, and he was trying to restart things. I told him we were through but he kept touching me. I told him to stop, and he said that bad things would happen to me if I didn't. He overpowered me. He tied me up and I thought he was going to rape me, but he said that he had something else in mind. A scheme to get me in trouble with the council while putting Aristarchus in his place. So he made up the story you just heard and told it to Chilla. When she heard it she agreed. She's hated Aristarchus for a long time and this sounded like a perfect opportunity," she began crying. The rest of the council looked uneasily at each other, unsure whether they should be comforting her or not.

"Two conflicting stories, then. In one we have a poor girl set up to commit two murders, and in the other we have two people besmirching my good name and that of Josa," Aristarchus said. "Since the accusations concern myself, and since Chilla is making them, neither of us will hold a vote. I don't envy you, there's no way of determining who is telling the truth."

"Actually," Mystan said as if on cue, which it was, "there's a possibility. I could send for a telepath to read their minds. Someone impartial to any Lunataks involved who could then relay what they saw." He would have suggested himself, except that the incident involving himself and Chilla would cause a lot of argument. Aristarchus nodded his head in approval and Mystan sought for the nearest Psion friendly to his cause.

* * *

Tygra was still sitting in the dungeon inside Sky Tomb, looking bored and frustrated. The effects of the alcohol had worn off, gratefully, but there didn't appear to be any way out. Luckily the Lunataks seemed to have contented themselves with the information they'd pulled out of his head, and hadn't resorted to any physical torture. Not yet, anyway.

Lion-O sheathed the Sword of Omens and paced the length of his bedroom. He'd already spoken to the others, telling them what he'd seen, and there was a general outcry against the Lunataks. Arguments had been made to retaliate immediately, while most agreed that the Thundercats had, in fact, been the ones at fault this time.

To make matters worse, Lion-O found that he could watch Tygra's every move, but still see nothing of Cheetara. It just didn't make sense and actually leant some credence to the possibility that the Lunataks didn't have their kinswoman. Surely if they had two Thundercat prisoners they would keep them in the same general area, or take the same precautions in their captivity. He walked over to the bed and tried to get to sleep, there would be little of it this night, but he had to try.

* * *

The lanky Psion named Extroc placed a hand on Josa's head first, following instructions from Mystan. "I see Chilla unconscious, Psychro standing over her. He's... making advances on Josa, threatening her to sleep with him... he's attacked her, tying her up..." he broke the connection, seeming horrified by what he'd seen. A smattering of murmurs broke out around the table, anger from Psychro and confusion from Chilla.

"Interesting. Now Psychro," Aristarchus said.

"I see Chilla attacked, Psychro seducing Josa, threats, violence..." Extroc began.

"The only violence I'm threatening is against you, liar," Psychro bellowed, grabbing the Psion and thrusting him against the wall. He managed only one good shot, smashing Extroc's nose and sending blood everywhere, before Stalker restrained him.

"Well, I think that settles that. Take Psychro and Chilla down to the dungeons for interrogation," Aristarchus said.

"But we haven't voted yet," Red Eye protested, thumping his fist against the table.

Aristarchus rolled his eyes, it would figure that he would argue the point. Everyone had acted their parts perfectly. From Psychro's outburst to Josa's tears. What more did Red Eye need to believe his girlfriend was guilty? "Fine. Anyone believe that Psychro was telling the truth, raise their hands." Red Eye's went up. "Anyone believing Josa?" Somewhat reluctantly Alluro raised his hand, along with those of Stalker, Mystan, and Soot Foot. "There you have it. Take them away."

* * *

Tygra heard the sound of many feet coming down the hallway and braced himself. Thus far the Lunataks had been content to leave him alone, but that would change sooner or later, he knew. It was with great surprise to see Chilla and another Icewalker being led down in shackles, then. He had been under the impression that Chilla was fairly important among the Lunataks, what had she done that merited being locked in a dungeon? Or was this some sort of trick to try and get him to spill more secrets? One of the guards gave them an apologetic look as he opened the cell across the hall from Tygra and pushed them in. Once they were in, he removed the chains and led his entourage back out.

With the guards gone the two Lunataks ignored the Thunderian and settled on one of the hard cots to talk.

* * *

Nitro slept, one arm draped over the many folds of Gravica. The two had engaged in an evening of sumptuous food and passionate sex, two things that Gravitons were very good at. Put them together and both got even better. Given his blissful state of mind, he wasn't thrilled at being wakened by Nuiane's persistent shaking. She was his favourite because she loved him wholeheartedly, but if she was wanting in on the action, she was a little late.

"What is it?" he asked groggily. Gravica shifted and rolled to her other side, but didn't wake. A heavy sleeper when she'd had a little to drink.

"Chilla's been arrested! I just saw her being taken down to the dungeons. I talked to some people and... I think it's partly my fault," she said, instantly capturing his attention. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her into the office of his modest home. Being high ranked he'd been given one of the first completed houses; a small thing with two bedrooms, a living/dining room, and an office. When bigger houses were built, he would move into one of those.

He set Nuiane down in a chair, waiting for her to explain, and she told him everything. She explained that she had been working for Aristarchus for years, reporting on Icewalker movements but explaining that she had never betrayed her true master; she swore this point vehemently. She proceeded to tell Nitro about Psychro's flirtations and her agreement with Aristarchus, she could see his face turning a deep purple. He was enraged and she could see veins jutting out like throbbing caterpillars from his forehead and neck.

The story advanced as quickly as she could tell it, so that she could find some rock to crawl under to hide. She had seen Chilla and Psychro being led away and had an inkling of what had transpired, so she had consulted with Aristarchus and he had told her the official version of the events. That Psychro and Chilla had concocted a scheme to smear Aristarchus' reputation and frame Josa at the same time.

When she finished, she shuddered under Nitro's stare, knowing full well that he was weighing her words and trying to decide if she was telling the truth. Under any other circumstance, being this close to her naked master would have been an exciting moment. Not this time. He leaned close to her face, and she shrank back under that powerful gaze. "You had my mother arrested for a crime that could cost her her life," he said slowly, as though only by doing so could he keep from exploding in anger.

"I'm sorry," she started, but was interrupted by his hand covering her mouth. He lifted her to a standing position this way and drew her even closer.

"You'll be sorrier if she dies. Back on the Ice Moon we have a custom of having disobedient servants for dinner. You've lied to me, betrayed me, and may have caused serious injury to House Iespyk. If Chilla dies, you die. Until then, you're confined to the kitchen, a reminder of your fate. If I see you out of the kitchen, for any reason, your life is forfeit. Understood?" his voice was low, and she knew that he wasn't bluffing. She had seen servants disappear and then reappear as choice cuts of meat. Nitro knew that it helped put the others in their places. As soon as he let go of her and stepped aside she bolted, running for her new post, praying that justice would be kind to Chilla.

* * *

The woman in question looked up as footsteps came down the hall. Psychro had been pleading his case to her, and she was inclined to believe it. Mystan was one of Aristarchus' flunkies, so it was very conceivable that they had concocted the whole thing. If only Alluro possessed a modicum of telepathy they might have had an unbiased opinion.

Chilla was not terribly surprised to see Red Eye tromping towards the cellblock. He paused outside the door and glanced back at Tygra, who had fallen asleep. She gestured for Psychro to stay back while she talked to him. "I'm sorry about this. I believe you," he whispered when she was near. "You would never get revenge this way on someone, and I think there's something going on. Aristarchus has named Josa to the council in your place, ignoring the Icewalkers' wishes. He says it's in light of what happened to her, that he needs loyal people on his council."

Chilla spat harshly on the floor, the news of the promotion angering her even more than her incarceration did. "Idiot. She's low ranked he's going to upset all the moons."

"I know. I just wanted you to know that I'm still on your side. I support you, and I love you," he said, reaching through the bars to stroke her face.

She recoiled from the touch but managed to cover the gesture by taking his hand in hers. "Red, this isn't how I wanted this conversation but..." she looked away, a rare sign of embarrassment from the proud woman. "It's not working out between us. I know it and you know it."

"You're right," he sighed, though his knees buckled. He had known it but hadn't been willing to accept it; he needed her to make that move. "It doesn't change how I feel about you, but you haven't been happy with this."

"I'm rarely happy with much," she snorted. Inwardly she was happy that he managed the ghost of a smile, it meant that she hadn't crushed him completely. She did care for him, as they had so much in common, it was just that the things they had in common were overwhelmed by the things they didn't.

"I'll try and keep you posted on what's happening. I think Alluro and Tug Mug will be on your side, but I can't guarantee that." He let his hand slip from hers and shuffled off again down the halls.

Returning to the cot she recounted what Red Eye had said, and was both surprised and pleased when Psychro didn't make a romantic advance. Instead he asked if she wanted to talk about it, and respected her wishes when she said she didn't. Maybe there was a proper gentleman buried all that macho posturing.

* * *

Having been blocked at every turn to speak with Aristarchus, Nitro was in the computer room fuming. Guards were barring him from entering, and the man himself was supposedly asleep in bed. Nitro wasn't overly surprised, really, any idiot would have known that imprisoning Chilla would have that kind of effect on her son and to expect some kind of confrontation with him. Nitro paused, any idiot? Well, Aristarchus certainly qualified as an idiot. He had rounded up his few sources and learned the full story, and sided fiercely with Chilla on the matter. The Lunar empire was on a collision course with disaster; Aristarchus had them on the brink of war with an entire planet and was trying to kill his own people all at the same time.

Nitro didn't like playing politics, but in this game he knew what to do. He logged in to the computer terminal and made his report to Tycho. "My prince, I hope to be calling you my governor soon. Third Earth and New Lunis need you now more than ever. With Aristarchus in command, we are doomed. Tomorrow we attack the Thundercats, and tomorrow he may sentence Chilla to death. Allow me to elaborate..." he began.


	4. Chapter 4

Return To Power by Jonathan J. Prideaux  
Chapter 4

He was standing in the middle of a clearing, surrounded on three sides by great mounds of rock and a perilous gorge on the fourth. This was where Cat's Lair should be. Used to be, his mind told him. There was no sign of his home anymore, though, not even the bridge that would allow him to leave this place. He walked along the edge, trying to figure out what had happened here.

The ground was lush and green, seemingly never having been disturbed. No signs of excavations, no broken remnants of his home nor stray bit of cloth to indicate that anyone had ever been here. But what force could erase the Thundercats so cleanly from existence? Across the chasm he saw something, pillars of stone that had been carved to resemble people.

Suddenly he was across, in the way that only dreams can transport you, walking among the pillars and realizing that the figures had been chiselled to look like his friends. Perfect likenesses of all of them. From Lynx-O and Pumyra to the Thunderkittens and Snarf they were all there. Even himself, strangely. He walked closer to the pillars and inspected them. No, they were monuments, his mind corrected for him, not pillars. Each bore a small bronze plaque, detailing their deeds. Each bore the same death date. So his friends were dead. He was dead. How? Why? Was he a ghost like Jaga? Was he cursed to roam Third Earth forever?

The dream, though he didn't realize it as such, carried him on, taking him to the Berbil Village. But it was no village anymore, not in the way he remembered. Lunataks walked the streets, forcing the Berbils to be their slaves, harvesting their fruits and growing other crops to feed their armies. Robear Bob fell as he watched and his master, a massive Darkling brought a metal wand down on his leg, denting the metal and causing Bob to cry out. Lion-O ran forward to intervene, but passed through the Darkling. Robear Bob struggled to his feet, unaware of his efforts, and continued to work.

He travelled to the Warrior Maiden village and the scene there was even worse. The proud women walked in chains, serving their disgusting Lunatak masters in ways that made Lion-O's blood boil when they weren't chopping wood or roasting meat. The dream took him to the other villages and the scene replayed itself; Wollos, Bulkins, Brute Men, even the Mutants were enslaved. The planet belonged to the Lunataks because the Thundercats had failed to protect it.

And the dream didn't end there, he spiralled out into space and saw the Control Force defeated, Mandora helplessly serving drinks to a lanky Psion, and other worlds dominated. The taint of Lunar evil had spread far and wide to planets he'd never even heard of. Lion-O felt an overwhelming sadness come over him, knowing that he had had an opportunity to prevent this and lost. His kin were dead and his friends enslaved, all because of him.

* * *

Lion-O woke with a start. He threw his covers from the bed and walked to the window for some fresh air. It was just a dream then. The sun was shining in his face, birds were singing, Cat's Lair still stood and his friends were alive. Weren't they? He reached for the Sword of Omens and called the sight beyond sight. They were alive, going about their routines. Tygra was sleeping, but seemed fine. Cheetara... He still couldn't see Cheetara. "If she were dead, would the sword show me her?" a taunting voice asked in the back of his mind. He'd asked Panthro about that and had been rebuffed. It was foolish to think that way, Panthro had argued, and he refused to do so.

What a dream, though. He'd had nightmares before, usually involving Thundera's destruction, but never anything so graphic. He'd felt the emotions as tangibly as he could the sword. Did dreams mean anything? Cheetara often believed they did, but he didn't think he wanted to know the meaning yet.

He dressed quickly and affixed the Claw Shield to his thigh. Snarf would be making breakfast, and he didn't want to miss it. Mandora would be by in the evening before she launched her investigation, and everything was going as well as it could. Lion-O stopped dead in his tracks as he approached the door to his room and a chill ran up his spine. The date of death on those pillars was today's.

* * *

Aristarchus yawned and stretched his tired aching muscles. It was going to be a good day, he could feel it in his bones. Today the Thundercats would be destroyed and by the end of the week he expected the rest of the planet to be under his heel. With all the resources of this planet at his disposal, he would return to the Moons of Plundarr a hero, and rid himself of that wretched pest of a queen.

He wondered, with a dry chuckle, how Lion-O's sleep had gone. Before bed, Mystan had promised to assign his Dreamwalker, a gentleman named Mezmir, to ensure that Lion-O didn't sleep well. With the precious Lord of the Thundercats running on little rest he would become sloppy, make mistakes, probably even fatal mistakes.

In fact, his own sleep would have been classified as marvellous if it hadn't been Nitro pounding on the door in the middle of the night. That whole House would be wiped from the moons if he had his way, nuisances all of them. But Knave was gone, Chilla would be soon, and that left Nitro... Oh certainly there were other members of the family; Nitro's other two sons for instance as well as aunts, uncles and assorted cousins, but the heart of the family was Chilla and Nitro. Aristarchus hoped the latter had an accident in the upcoming fight.

It was a little early yet to rally the troops, so he summoned one of the guards and instructed them to fetch him something to eat. He turned back into his room and regarded the map of Third Earth. Soon, it would all be his.

* * *

While the leaders of the factions were waking to a new day, Shade had been up for an hour or two. Nightshade had borrowed her body so that he could do some modifications to his existing one and had roughly shoved her mind aside, preventing her from seeing exactly what he was doing. He was gone now, taking his new body on a joyride and promised to bring her a new friend when he did.

He had barely been gone a minute before she had ducked into his curtained room and taken one of the spell books. She figured she was slightly less likely to get caught reading it in her room than in his. At least if he came back she could hide the book and hope for a distraction so that she could return it. Idly she wondered what the prisoners thought of it all. They hated her, there was little doubt, but she detected a certain amount of pity. Especially from the Thunderian woman. She had made eye contact during the theft and nodded to Shade, as though knowing what she was thinking. She would try and distract Nightshade if the need arose, but hoped it wouldn't come to that.

* * *

"Brrr... You look terrible, Lion-O. You sure you don't want to go back to bed, snarf, snarf. I can cook you some breakfast later, if you want," Snarf said, piping up when he saw Lion-O stagger into the diningroom.

It was typical of his onetime nanny, and he patted him on the head to show that it was appreciated. "No thanks, Snarf. I don't think I could get back to sleep after the nightmare I had. And no, I don't want to talk about it, I just want it to go away." He walked over to one of the chairs at the nearly empty table. There had often been times when many Thundercats weren't present for breakfast, but never had it felt so vacant. Wily Kit was on monitor duty, but Wily Kat and Panthro were talking quietly at one end.

Snarf disappeared in a flash and returned with a large stack of pancakes, smothered in a rich Berbilberry jam. A glass of juice materialized beside his arm, along with cutlery and a serviette. Never a detail was missed when Snarf was around. "Food is the perfect thing to cure what ails you, my mother always used to say," he said proudly. "There's more in the kitchen if you want it."

There always was. A good cook made sure that there was always enough to eat, and Snarf had it down to a science. "Thank you, Snarf, it smells delicious."

"Of course it does. A secret recipe. Do either of you want more?" he asked, interrupting the other two. Wily Kat sheepishly handed his plate back but Panthro shook his head. "Okay then. I'll be back with more for you and then take some up to Wily Kit. It wouldn't do for her to go hungry up there."

Lion-O watched Snarf bustle away, almost allowing himself to forget his troubles. He knew the peace wouldn't last forever, but the reprieve was welcome. In no time at all he had finished his portion and found a new batch of pancakes on his plate. He had to admit, the nightmare felt like a thing of the past.

* * *

Mystan regarded Aristarchus carefully. They were allies mostly because he was the easier one to manipulate should he ever gain the throne, but Mystan was starting to wonder if he and the other high priests had chosen wisely. Aristarchus was brilliant, but very set in his ways. He had visions for how things should progress and it was hard to move him from them. Of course, a very good telepath could forcibly change his mind, but there was always a risk of such a thing failing, and that would harm their relationship even more.

Attacking the Thundercats was pointless. They had the law on their side at the moment. A more prudent and patient man would sit back and let Control smack the Thundercats paws. But if an attack on the Thundercats had to be done, he didn't see the point in giving them a chance to surrender first. They had a fleet of space ships that could decimate Cat's Lair before the felines had a chance to react, then he might offer those in the Tower of Omens the option of surrendering.

Had the man gone mad? Had his defeat to Tycho hurt his psyche enough to make him less trustworthy? It was a ponderous question, and one which he had little time to mull over. Aristarchus was expecting an answer of some kind, however, to whatever question he was asking. "My apologies, governor, my mind has been taxed of late," he said, which was truth, but not the whole truth.

"I merely wondered who should be next. Once the Thundercats are our slaves we can move on to whomever we like. Tuskas? Those primitive women?" Aristarchus said, gesturing at the map behind him. After his breakfast he had called for his most trusted advisor, eager to begin the festivities.

"If I might speculate, I would suggest the sorceress Mumm-Rana be next. Past reports indicate she's almost as powerful, if not more so, than Mumm-Ra was, and we had great difficulty defeating him," Mystan said. "However, the Thundercats will not so easily be crushed. The Sword of Omens..."

"Yes. The Sword of Omens. If we could rid ourselves of it... Perhaps a trade? Tygra for the sword? The Thundercats are just noble enough to surrender their greatest weapon in exchange for the life of one of their own."

And there it was. The brilliance of Aristarchus breaking through the madness. He was absolutely correct, Mystan realized. The Thundercats were all about the honour and loyalty. They would value Tygra's life over their holiest of artifacts. But there would be trickery involved, and the Lunataks would have to be cautious. With things looking a little more promising, Mystan smiled broadly. "Yes, and I think I know just how to carry it out."

* * *

For the twelfth time that day, Alluro cursed the Ancient Spirits of Evil and the wretched eye he had been burdened with. All through the night the eye had called him. Speaking in riddles, all of which indicated that he needed to leave Sky Tomb, leave New Lunis altogether, and venture out of Dark Side. They were being vague about what he needed to do when he got wherever they were taking him, and it was frustrating. As he crossed through the Fire Rock Mountains he debated lobbing the stone into the Thundrainium to be rid of it, but something stayed his hand. Rivers of blood. The words echoed through his head, and he knew that whatever he was doing might save him from death.

Or cause it. Anything was possible given the nature of riddles. Why couldn't prophesies be clear and concise? Wouldn't it make more sense? Or did being vague increase their likelihood of being right. He snorted and stopped for a minute to rest. It really would have been better if the riddle had suggested taking one of the jet packs.

* * *

The first thing Chilla noticed when she woke up was the foul stench of the unwashed blanket she was sleeping on. It had clearly last been used by a brute man slave with a bladder problem, if the crusty patch that scraped against her leg was any indication. Back when Sky Tomb had been her home rather than her prison she had enjoyed depriving the prisoners of common luxuries, now she knew how it felt. Ultimately, it wouldn't change how she treated prisoners, but it might give her ideas on how to make it more unpleasant.

What had awakened her, however, was a different stench. It smelled fresher, though that didn't make any sense, and there was movement. She opened her eyes to find Psychro with his pants around his ankles and immediately got into a fighting crouch. He turned at the noise, an unfortunate gesture as it put him at eye level with his groin, and chuckled. "Don't worry," he assured her, "just going to the bathroom."

That's right. They didn't have private bathrooms down here. Prisoners were lucky to have chamber pots when the Lunataks were feeling generous. Luckily, this cell was equipped with one. She allowed herself to relax, groaning mentally at the thought of when she would have to use the pot. Psychro would no doubt make some lewd comment about it. Then again, he hadn't just now. Chilla heard Tygra moving around, watching the interaction, and no doubt feeling uncomfortable himself about when he would need to go to the bathroom. She'd dealt with Tygra on a number of occasions and he'd always struck her as shy.

She glanced over to Psychro again and averted her eyes hastily. He was ruggedly handsome, and that was part of the problem, generously endowed too if the glimpse was any indication. She wondered if he would be nearly so insufferable if he didn't have the reputation of being a womanizer. Chilla had heard a rumour that the longest he'd ever stayed with a woman, apart from his first relationship, was a month; It had been with an Icewalker girl who insisted on a bonding ceremony before she would put out for him. When she had finally conceded, the night before they were to be bonded, he'd ditched her.

Chilla sighed. The womanizing was just the tip of the iceberg on Psychro's character flaws; he respected women in most areas, but thought it impossible that they would turn down the chance at a man like him. His massive ego was only further enhanced by the fact that there were a great deal of women who thought he was right. He was also most at home in a bar. The only time his hands weren't holding either a beer or a woman was when he was picking a fight in the bar. He didn't always win, but he did always enjoy the fisticuffs. All in all, she thought, he was one of the most immature people she knew, almost as bad as a Graviton.

As if to confirm her opinion, she watched him walk over to the bars of the cage, still pantsless. "Hey Thundercat! Bet yours isn't this big!" he called out, taking satisfaction when Tygra looked disgusted and turned his back on him. "That's what I thought. And that's why you'll never find a woman unless she's desperate or has issues."

A faint growl could be heard over Psychro's gloating, his member jutting out through the bars of the cell. Finally deciding he'd had enough fun he started to turn around. He barely had Chilla's name on his lips before a stream of ice covered his most sensitive area. Any snide or vulgar remarks he might have made were silenced as he frantically used his heat powers to melt the ice. In the poor light of the cell, Chilla thought she could make out Tygra mouthing a thank you to her.

Further conversation, however, was halted as a group of Psions descended into the dungeons and took Tygra away.

* * *

"New Lunis to Cat's Lair. Come in Cat's Lair, like do you read?" a voice piped over the intercom. Lion-O had been dreading this. Two hours after breakfast, following a quick workout, he had come to the control room to give Wily Kit some time off. She and her brother had bolted for the Berbil village almost immediately, presumably to pick candy fruit or something. Now the Lunataks were calling and that could only mean one thing: they were issuing demands.

Lion-O tapped a button, activating the monitor. Instantly a young Icewalker, with faint Psion markings, appeared on the screen. The woman was chewing on something, though he couldn't tell what, and seemed bored. "What do you want, Lunatak?" he asked, probably a little harsher than he should have, but with his friends in danger he didn't feel like using social niceties.

"Anyway, Aristarchus wants to talk to Lion-O. I suppose that's you?" she said. When Lion-O nodded she tapped a few buttons.

Instantly the woman was replaced by Aristarchus, grinning widely. He looked like a man who knew he held all the cards, "Lion-O. Good to see you again. Let me cut to the chase; we found Tygra spying on our city and we have arrested him. Ordinarily the penalty for spying is lengthy torture followed by death. However, I felt in light of our previous relationship that I would propose a deal. Something of value for someone you value, as it were."

"I demand to see him," Lion-O said. He knew Tygra was fine, the Eye of Thundera had told him so, but there was no need to let Aristarachus know all the powers of the sword.

"Very well." The governor stepped aside and Tygra was pushed into the picture. He was shackled around the wrists and neck, but seemed to be in fine condition, all things considered.

"Lion-O! Whatever they want, don't do it!" he started before a Psion clamped his hand over Tygra's mouth and pulled him away.

"As you can see, Lion-O, Tygra is alive and well. His remaining so depends greatly on your next words. If you ever want to see Tygra alive again, you will deliver us the Sword of Omens."

The Lord of the Thundercats was shocked. Aristarchus was asking an astronomically high price for the life of one of his friends. Could he truly surrender the heart of the Thundercat race, a powerful weapon that had served the Lords of the Thundercats throughout countless generations? Was the life of one man worth the cost? And yet, there was no choice to make. Lion-O knew it, and could see that Aristarchus knew it. He couldn't bear to imagine Tygra dead, especially if he had the power to save him. Still... "And for Cheetara?"

"Again with Cheetara. Listen closely. We. Do. Not. Have. Cheetara. If you ask again, we will send you a piece of Tygra as incentive. Understand?"

"I do. Fine, I will bring you the Sword of Omens and you will release Tygra to us, unharmed."

"I knew you would. We are already on the way in one of our ships, and you will find that not a hair on Tygra's head has been touched. It's been a pleasure doing business with you."

The screen flickered to black. Lion-O sank back heavily into his chair, the sense of foreboding he'd had earlier in the day returning. The Lunataks were plotting something, and he could only hope he figured it out in time. He summoned Panthro and together they waited outside.

* * *

Alluro recognized the route that the eye was taking him, while a new chant played in his head. "The ruin of one leads to freedom for another... Time stands still for those who bear eternal life... Death in the shadows, a heart of stone..." Whatever it meant he knew that the Ancients wouldn't let him rest until he'd completed whatever task they had in mind for him. Were they talking about Mumm-Ra or the other evil? Mumm-Ra was undead; did that count as eternal life? Who brought death and was it connected to the ruin of one? He wouldn't mind having freedom from the stone, he thought with a snort. Whatever they wanted, whatever his purpose, he knew that they were leading him to Cat's Lair.

* * *

"Paeder..." Spitfire hissed weakly. She looked horrible, and her commander knew that the woman wouldn't last another attack. Spitfire lay flat on her back, eyes searching vainly for the one person she knew in this godsforsaken place.

The woman in question was seated at her head, propped up against the wall with her knees pulled up against her chest, a fear of death had been haunting her ever since she'd come, sometimes it was stronger, and sometimes she could fight it off. This was not one of those times. It seemed so unfair. An Icewalker was able to fight almost from birth, the result of living on a moon that wanted to destroy them. To die in combat was honourable, and worthy of songs. To die in a place like this, weak, feeble, and helpless, was embarrassing. There would be no tales told of this adventure. "Yes?" she asked.

Spitfire had clearly been thinking the same way. "Kill me," she whispered, her voice a shadow of what it once had been. Paeder looked questioningly at her, as if confirming what she'd heard. "Kill me so that Nightshade doesn't do it. The hall of heroes won't take me if I die at that thing's hands. I'd rather my blood be shed by a friend."

Paeder nodded in understanding. To be killed by a friend, or ally at least, might earn one passage into the hall of heroes, where Icewalkers dwelled until that day when Lunis would summon them for one final battle. Though she didn't have any weapons on her, she did have her bare hands, and gently wrapped them around Spitfire's throat. It wouldn't be a clean kill by any stretch of the imagination, but it would be honourable.

Or it would have been if Knave hadn't found the energy to tackle her, throwing the two of them across the ground and startling Cheetara from her vigil. Paeder decked the hybrid, splitting his lip, and rose to her feet. "Damned half-breed. If you want to die a traitor's death, so be it, but let us die the right way."

"You want to die?" Knave snarled. His eyes narrowed to slits, suggesting that he would dish out death to her if she wanted it. The two had never gotten along, and had bickered often in their time of captivity.

"Stop it. All of you," Shade said, having emerged unnoticed from her room. "When the time comes, we will need as many as we can to destroy Nightshade."

"Why should we listen to you?" Paeder said, turning her attention from Knave to the Darkling woman. She came close to the 'door' of the cell but stopped before she reached the energy field that blocked it. One touch of that would speed up the life draining.

"Because I'm just as much a prisoner as you are. Okay, you have every right to despise me, but we're in this together. I'm learning his magic, and soon I hope to be able to take down these barriers. It looks like there should even be a way to reverse them," Shade said. Paeder muttered a dirty remark but finally settled back down on the floor. Crisis averted, Shade slipped back into Nightshade's room and replaced the book.

* * *

Panthro watched the sky, the sun had been up for about four or five hours now, and soon Snarf would be making lunch. At present he was doing the routine patrols of the Lair, since they were so badly short staffed. Much like his Lord, Panthro had an uneasy feeling about this whole mess. To surrender the Sword of Omens was to surrender their greatest weapon. Without it, could they stop the Lunataks? His gut told him that they were about to find out.

It appeared on the horizon like some kind of great bird, the massive Lunatak flagship came ever closer. Even as he and Lion-O watched, standing at the edge of the drawbridge, the ship's hangar doors opened and ejected a smaller shuttle. A ship that size to deliver Tygra? There was something else going on, and every instinct told Panthro to be on guard. He'd never trusted the Lunataks. Well, maybe when Tycho had been governing there had been hope for peace, but not Aristarchus; that one radiated evil.

The smaller shuttle descended slowly to the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust as it did so that the two Thundercats had to shield their eyes. Finally the doors to the shuttle opened and out stepped Aristarchus, flanked by his toadie Mystan and two massive Gravitons that he had never seen. Aristarchus walked with the poise of one accustomed to having rich carpets placed before him, lest his dainty feet be sullied by such base things as earth and grass. He eyed the Thunderians with the kind of disdain one would reserve for a meddlesome insect.

Mystan, on the other hand, was keeping a sharp eye on both of them, suspicious and aware of his surroundings. While both men were highly intelligent, Aristarchus was a firm believer in that nature should act in a specific way, he seemed to fancy that he knew precisely how the Thundercats would react and had the confidence that things would not deviate from plan. Mystan viewed the world more critically. He knew that if one side could change the rules that the other could too. He anticipated, and that made him more dangerous.

"Where's Tygra?" Lion-O demanded, striding forward.

"He's safe. For now," Aristarchus gestured and the two Gravitons went inside to fetch the prisoner. The air grew tense, and Panthro quickly weighed the odds. Aristarchus didn't look like he would be much good in a fight. He presumably had some formal training, but it would be nowhere near the level of himself or Lion-O. Mystan, he'd been told, was a telekinetic of some skill, probably fairly high to be this high ranking. In a straight up fight, however, he was probably useless. It was the Gravitons that gave Panthro pause. If Tug Mug was anything to go by, they would be incredibly strong.

Tygra was bound, around the neck and wrists, but seemed healthy. His eyes showed concern, but his stance showed no fear. He was a Thundercat, he wouldn't give them the satisfaction.

"Now then. The Sword of Omens on your honour, or I perform an execution on the spot," Aristarchus said, drawing the sword that hung at his hip. The blade was positioned at Tygra's heart, a single thrust would likely kill him.

Lion-O shared a meaningful look with Panthro, enough to know that they both thought the same thing. Aristarchus was lower than scum for pulling a dirty tactic like this, and they had no choice but to obey. He walked across the grass until he was within arm's length of Mystan and held out the fabled weapon of the Thundercats. "Now. On your word release Tygra to me, or by Jaga..." he began. Aristarchus smiled vilely and shoved the Tiger down. The four Lunataks turned and began walking back to the shuttle.

Panthro and Lion-O helped Tygra to his feet. "Are you okay?" Lion-O asked, glaring over his shoulder at the retreating figures.

"Yes. But the sword, Lion-O..."

"Is worth less to me than your life, old friend. We'll get it back when Mandora and Control get here. Don't worry." The Lord of the Thundercats moved around behind Tygra and took a hold of the chains. His muscles rippled as pent-up rage flowed through his veins and the chains burst apart. While the manacles were still affixed to his neck and wrists, at least now he could comfortably move.

"It's too bad the Thunderkittens aren't here. Some extra support would be nice. I don't trust those Lunataks," Panthro said, taking a backward glance at the ship. This was going too easily, and he was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Together the three Thundercats crossed the bridge. They were almost to the other side when they heard Aristarchus call out to them again. He and his three companions hadn't yet entered their shuttle and, if anything, had actually started to come back. "I forgot to mention the other price for your spying," he said, gesturing to the flagship.

All at once beams of energy lanced out from the several turrets, scoring direct hits all over Cat's Lair, large sections of rock exploded, and the massive cat head tumbled to the ground. What had once been their proud home was destroyed. The shockwave catapulted the three Thundercats backwards, and Tygra hurtled over the edge of the bridge, tumbling into the moat. It took Panthro a moment to recover from the shock of the brutal attack, and he sprinted to the edge of the bridge in hopes of seeing Tygra, but saw nothing. His bellow of anger matched that of Lion-O's.

* * *

Snarf was crawling down the stairs into the basement. He hated this part of the patrol, and always saved it for last. Dark creepy places weren't his cup of tea, and adding Mumm-Ra's corpse to that didn't make any more pleasant. He was almost at the bottom when the explosions occurred. Sections of ceiling came crashing down, blocking the door at the top of the stairs. Fortunately Tygra had designed the basement very well, and it was largely unharmed by the attacks. Even still, it meant that he was trapped in a dark creepy place... with Mumm-Ra.

* * *

The attack formation was sadly predictable. Lion-O made a mad rush for Aristarchus, while Panthro, protected his lord by going after the Gravitons. Neither of them gave any thought to Mystan, which suited him fine. He didn't like hand to hand combat if he could avoid it, and this way he could make himself more useful. One of the things that Aristarchus had insisted on, was that the war between Thunderian and Lunatak should come down to the two leaders so that when Aristarchus brought Lion-O back to the Moons of Plundarr, a helpless prisoner, he could gloat that he had been the one to beat him. Of course, that would only technically be true.

Mystan extended his telekinetic power, mindful of where Panthro was at all times, until he wrapped himself around Lion-O's body. The youth was strong, physically and mentally, and resisted the grip. Mystan scowled. His abilities were the best in the moons, no one should be able to resist him, but Lion-O was. Even still, he was slowed by the assault, and that proved beneficial to Aristarchus' meagre abilities.

* * *

For his part, Panthro was having great difficulty. He had planted a dropkick on one Graviton's chin, but hadn't managed to take him down, it had barely knocked the goon over. A jolt of pain raced down his leg from the impact, and it was only thanks to his conditioning and anger that he was able to recover so quickly. By this time the second Graviton had moved in and clubbed him in the back with one of his tree trunk like arms. The blow caught him between the shoulder blades, causing the Panther to stumble forward, almost tripping over his first opponent. A voice deep down, sounding remarkably like Jaga's, reminded him to watch his temper and think things through. While there was a cathartic reaction to pummelling people with fists and feet, there were other weapons at his disposal.

"Surrender, Thundercat, you don't have a chance," the second Graviton chuckled.

"You're sounding like a Psion," the first chuckled. Then they were both laughing at the joke.

"So you like to laugh, eh?" Panthro murmured, producing his nunchakus. He flipped the cap of the red handle and a noxious purple gas wafted out, surrounding one of the two. Almost instantly that one began to giggle, collapsing to his hands and knees as uncontrollable laughter took over him. "There. Now it's one on one," he said.

"Ha! Like eet's going to be any easier for you." The Graviton in question produced a smaller version of the gravity carbine that Tug Mug had always carried. "Let's see eef you can still jump around when I increase your weight!"

* * *

The fight between Aristarchus and Lion-O wasn't going quite as easily as the former had hoped. It was ridiculous and probably spoke volumes about Aristarchus' skills. Lion-O was unarmed against a sword wielding opponent, was being drastically slowed in his movements by Mystan's telekinesis, and was emotionally unsettled. It should have been a cakewalk for the Governor of New Lunis. A pampered lifestyle was to blame, he thought as he narrowly avoided a flying fist. Too much greasy Graviton food, perhaps. Ah well, Lunataks were known for not playing fair, and he saw no reason to start.

"You fight well, Lion-O. But I wonder, can you see in the dark?" he asked, gesturing with one hand. The battlefield went completely black, and he heard the startled noises from the other combatants. He swiftly put on a pair of infrared goggles and grinned widely. "You didn't think there were only four of us, did you? If Tygra hadn't gone over the edge he might have told you there were others."

A cold humanoid blob moved nimbly over to where Panthro was struggling to find the two Gravitons he'd been dealing with, while another warm shape came over to where Aristarchus and Lion-O had been fighting. Stalker and Josa had been eager to get involved in the capture of the Thundercats, and seemed pleased to be called into action. Lion-O swung wildly in the air, fighting valiantly against the telekinetic hold, and Stalker waded in and punched him as hard as he could. The blow caught Lion-O's jaw and he dropped to one knee. Thus distracted, Aristarchus slashed his sword across the Thunderian's calf making him cry out in agony, he then turned his sword and cracked Lion-O's skull with the pommel. "You are beaten Lion-O! Surrender!" He struck again and again as the Lord of the Thundercats dropped to the ground, thoroughly beaten.

* * *

"I've got my target too!" Josa shouted. Panthro had been too focussed on the Gravitons that it hadn't occurred to him to listen for another opponent. Fumbling around in the dark, trying to rely on his sense of smell to tell him where the beefy men were, he was unaware of Josa's presence, until she froze him solid in a block of ice.

At her words the darkness lifted, courtesy of Stalker, and the Lunataks took stock of their situation. Lion-O was bloodied, conscious and alive but barely. The Lunataks themselves seemed to be largely unscathed. The two Gravitons were a little bruised, but didn't seem to mind as long as they were victorious. Aristarchus was covered in blood, though none of it was his own. Stalker looked disappointed, probably that he had done so little. Mystan was... missing. Even as she noticed, she could see that Aristarchus had realized it as well. "Mystan? Where are you?" he shouted. There was no response, only an eerie quiet that was broken only by the sound of their heavy breathing. "It must have been Tygra. He can turn invisible, he must have come back when we weren't looking."

"Then where is he now?" Stalker asked, his infrared vision scanning the area for any life signs. They couldn't have gone that far, as Mystan had been holding Lion-O only moments before.

"Bring him back, Thundercat, or your friends are doomed." To illustrate his intent, Aristarchus kicked Lion-O in the chest. "Fine, then, play your games. If you do not return Mystan, I promise that I will torture your friends until they beg for death, and then I will torture them some more. All the while they will know that you could have saved them but didn't. When I finally grant them their wish, they will die cursing your name. Do you hear me?" There was still no answer, so he gestured for his people to take the two Thundercats to the shuttle. Tygra would reveal himself sooner or later, and he would regret taking Aristarchus' closest advisor.

* * *

He felt extremely disoriented. One minute he had been latched on to Lion-O's body with his mind, and the next he was pulled under the ground. He finally got his bearings when he was unceremoniously dumped in a prison cell far below the surface. He shared it with rotting corpses and a frail warrior maiden that he suspected he could break over his knee. He turned and found himself face to face with a broad shouldered human, who was staring at him with contempt and found himself returning the expression. "You just made a mistake," Mystan snarled, lashing out with his powers. The man fell backwards, his momentum only halted by the force field that seemed to be blocking the door. He was strong, and Mystan found himself unable to get a very good grip. It was almost reminiscent of fighting Mumm-Ra.

"Now it's my turn." Quicker than he'd expected, the strange man grabbed Mystan's arm and began drawing his energy out of him. The pain was excruciating, more so than anything he'd experienced in his life, and then, just as suddenly as it had started, it was over. He tumbled to the ground feeling weak. The human watched him, pleased at the results. "I advise against doing that again. You will learn that are nothing to me but an easy meal." He stepped quietly through the field, leaving Mystan alone to ponder his fate.

* * *

Alluro watched the Lunatak ship flying overhead and chuckled wryly to himself. If he'd known they were going to be visiting Cat's Lair, he would have hitched a ride instead of walking it. The eye urged him onwards as he traversed through the forest. He would have gotten there sooner, but figured that passing through the Berbil village was unwise. There might be a peace in effect, but they might warn the Thundercats that he was coming.

As it turned out, he didn't think it would be an issue. He crested the last hill and burst through the thick foliage and was flabbergasted by what he saw. Where once had stood Cat's Lair was now only a large pile of rubble and useless rock. Certainly, there were parts that seemed to have survived, but the bulk of it was ruined. "How am I supposed to get to Mumm-Ra?" he asked aloud, not expecting an answer. Still, the eye in his pocket pressed him forward. He just hoped it had better ideas than he did.

* * *

Foolishly, perhaps, the Lunataks had returned his whip to him. As the Lair exploded, and Tygra was sent hurtling over the edge, the Tiger had used the whip to render himself invisible in the vain hope that he might be able to get away. He had known, in that split second, that the Lunataks were playing for keeps this time. They would capture the Thundercats and probably kill them, but if he could escape then there was hope he could rescue his friends. Somehow.

The water in the moat was freezing cold, but it was his best avenue of escape because he knew where it drained out, filtering into a complex river system until it reached the ocean. He wouldn't take it that far, only far enough to get him to the Warrior Maiden village. The Thunderkittens were there, hopefully still would be there and not picked off by the Lunataks, and the women there could probably help.

* * *

Even bound in thundrainium chains, and placed in a cell with bars made of thundrainium, Aristarchus didn't trust Lion-O. The feline possessed awesome strength and an unmeasurable amount of willpower. If there was anyone who could overcome the thundrainium, it was him. That was why a quartet of guards, one from each moon, was stationed in front of the cells holding him and Panthro. Once the rest of the cats had been captured, he would arrange for a shuttle to deliver them to the Moons of Plundarr, and he would be hailed as a hero. He would demand Luna's throne from her and if she refused he would take it. After all, he had the Sword of Omens, a powerful artifact, and the support of the empire. As he saw it, nothing could go wrong.

* * *

"Luna!" Tycho shouted, pushing the doors to her office open forcefully, Darius at his heels. Amok jumped up and stood between Tycho and the desk, looking quite menacing. "You win. Though I hate you for making me do it, I will take the position of governor of Third Earth. It's what you've wanted all along. You set Aristarchus as the man in charge, knowing full well that he was the one person above all others that I would object to being there. You knew that I wouldn't be able to sit quietly while he ruined all the hard work I put into organizing things there, and the peace that I'd made. This is what you wanted, so I will go as soon as I can."

She watched him impassively, tapping her riding crop against the palm of her hand and letting her distant cousin vent. Finally, she gestured for Amok to stand down and set the crop aside. "Are you done?" she asked.

"Do you know what he's doing down there? He's pitting Lunatak against Lunatak, weeding out people who aren't loyal to him, including House Iespyk, and taking on the Thundercats and Control at the same time. It's stupid and it's rash," Tycho said. Darius stood very close, and the latter wondered how well he would fare in a fight against Amok. Probably not very well, and not something he would have to find out if he could keep Tycho in line.

"I'm aware of Aristarchus' actions and I've already informed him of my displeasure. However, you are right and wrong in your ranting. A good queen uses the people around her for the best of their abilities. Unfortunately, you and Aristarchus are opposites. If I could create a clone with your best qualities and his best qualities it would have no weaknesses. What you fail to realize is that when it comes to warfare, I need him. You are not a violent person and care too much to send people to their deaths. Aristarchus doesn't have that weakness, he does what has to be done and gets results. But he's no good to me in times of peace, which is where you excel. People like you, though I sometimes wonder why. They see you and are confident they're in good hands." She saw him wanting to argue her points, but Amok ensured that he would keep quiet.

"And that's my dilemma. You say you're willing to go to Third Earth and be my governor, and I appreciate that. But this is no longer a time of peace, when we need to play nice with the Thundercats and Control. This is a time of war, when diplomacy is thrown out the window in favour of ruthlessness. When a firm hand and cold heart are needed."

"But my queen!" Tycho said, finding his voice at last. He would have taken a step forward had Darius' arms not been wrapped around him.

"Silence! I will send you to New Lunis. Until I can come up with a better solution, you and Aristarchus will be considered equals. On issues on which you cannot agree, and in which you cannot await my answer, your council will decide. Are there any objections?" she asked, daring him to make a challenge. When he didn't answer she leaned back in her chair. "Good. Then you will take one of our newer ships, stocked with soldiers and workers and report there at once." She went back to work, not bothering to look up as he left the room.

* * *

Mystan was gone. That was all that Aristarchus had said when he returned to the flagship. Gone without a trace. The news had struck Zanaya like a ton of bricks, it had hit his apprentice Lura worse, but Zanaya couldn't be bothered about that. Immediately the two women had volunteered to search for him and had been granted permission. The former assassin knew that Lura would only slow her down, but an extra set of eyes might come in handy.

She had changed from her more loose beige robes into her more appropriate assassin's garb. A form fitting black outfit with a reversible black and dark purple cloak. She had found a similar outfit for Lura to wear, so that she didn't broadcast their location to anyone who might be looking. Finally they were ready to leave. Krystalin would be safe at home, under the watchful eye of another Psion, and they each carried enough provisions to last them for two days. Aristarchus had kindly arranged for a shuttle to drop them off at Cat's Lair, probably more out of desperation to get Mystan back than for any other reason.

* * *

The Electrocharger swooped down through the cloud cover as quickly as it could. Mandora had been trying to contact Cat's Lair for the last hour and was receiving nothing but static. Though Officer Mandora would never admit it, she was nervous. The Thundercats could be relied on to always have someone on hand, and the fact that there wasn't... She ordered the train of thought away. There was a perfectly logical explanation. Whoever was on watch duty might have been in the bathroom, or their transmitter might be under repair...

Or Cat's Lair could be a wrecked shell of what it once was. For the first time in a very long while Mandora gasped, a single tear permitted to show itself on her face. "The Lunataks," she muttered angrily, turning her flying motorcycle around. It had to be them behind this. "This is evil chaser first class Mandora to Interplanetary Control Force base 102, do you read."

"Evil chaser fourth class Bryce responding. What's up?" an all too cheerful voice piped up on the other end of her line. She had helped train him as a cadet, but had never been able to get him to see that law enforcement was serious business.

"I am en route to New Lunis. Perpetrators have attacked and destroyed Cat's Lair, high probability that it was the Lunataks. I am requesting backup," she intoned. She wondered whether she should go past the Tower of Omens and make sure that it was intact. If it hadn't, she might be able to collect evidence.

"Ah shoot, nobody told you. The Lunataks filed a declaration of war first thing this morning. They cited a 2-19 and 3-01. Someone was supposed to tell you about that so that you could confirm their claims."

Mandora's visor flashed at the news, though her one-time trainee had no way of knowing it. "A 2-19? From the Thundercats? That's highly unlikely." It was hard to believe that the Thundercats would engage in any kind of espionage. She could concede that speaking with the other races of Third Earth could be construed into a massing of arms, but that was stretching a point. Still, if there was evidence either way, she would find it. "I will continue with the investigation then under standard 'potentially hostile situation' protocols." She switched off the radio. The Lunataks weren't likely to be unco-operative, but one never knew, so the book said to play it safe. She angled the Electrocharger towards the Tower of Omens, and hoped to find someone still alive.

* * *

Had she taken a closer look at what was left of Cat's Lair, she would have seen a lone figure picking through the rubble. Alluro was starting to get fed up with the rock in his pocket, guessing only that it wanted him to get to Mumm-Ra. Following Chilla and Psychro's incarceration Aristarchus had told the rest of the council his plans for attacking the Thundercats, but to see that it had actually worked was nothing less than remarkable. Alluro could count on one hand the number of times he'd seen Cat's Lair sustain a lot of damage, and the wretched felines always seemed to have rebuilt within a week. It was those Berbils, he thought, they were tireless workers and eager to be of use. He could think of a few uses for them himself, target practice for instance.

One of the large main doors to the lair was on the ground, allowing Alluro to easily slip inside with all the stealth he could muster, and he followed the rock as far as a part of a hallway that had collapsed on itself. He snorted loudly and took the eye out of his pocket. "You must be joking," he said to it, no longer finding it strange that he was talking to a rock, "I'm strong, but even I can't move stone."

No sooner had the words escaped his lips than the eye began to glow a deep red colour, bathing him in the light. It was as though a part of his mind was suddenly opened, an obstacle ironically like the one in front of him, and he felt his powers growing stronger. He, like all Psions, possessed a modicum of skill in all the disciplines. In some areas the skill was great, such as his hypnosis, while in others it was a bare minimum. He remembered his teachers trying to get him to practice his telekinesis and scolding him for barely being able to lift a feather. It just wasn't in him to do it... Until now. He waved his arm out at the rubble and watched with glee as it levitated up and off to the side for him. Oh, if only his teacher could see him now. He would pick that balding jerk up and drop him in the nearest lake.

The rock's light wavered, and he understood the meaning at once; the Ancient Spirits of Evil were weak. They could augment his powers, but the less he used them the better. Slowly he continued onwards, going where the eye led and not really knowing what he was supposed to do when he got there.

* * *

"Evil chaser Mandora to Tower of Omens, request permission to enter," she called out over the radio. Contrary to popular belief that there was ice water running through her veins, she felt immense relief to see the second home of the Thundercats still in one piece; it meant there was hope that some of the Thundercats were still alive.

"This is Lynx-O at the Tower of Omens. Come on in," came the reply. She could tell by the way he spoke that he didn't even know something was wrong. Well, he deserved to know the facts. She began her descent and parked her Electrocharger.

* * *

The four inhabitants of the Tower of Omens had been gathered, and were standing around in the control centre. "I'll get to the point, Thundercats, Cat's Lair has been destroyed," she said bluntly. When it came to the truth she saw no point in dancing around. The reactions were as she'd predicted; shock, sadness, anger. "Control informs me that the Lunataks have declared war on you, claiming that you engaged in espionage and stirring up support against them. Those are heavy charges and I mean to investigate them. Have any of you Thundercats gone into Dark Side since last I talked to you?" She saw the looks of guilt immediately; an officer was trained to see such things. It didn't matter in this case as she knew the Thundercats wouldn't lie, but it didn't hurt.

"Tygra went into their city yesterday to see if he could find Cheetara. I'm sure he didn't do any harm," Lynx-O said.

"I'd like to do them harm," Bengali growled. "If anyone was in Cat's Lair..."

"I will let you handle rescue efforts. I've got an investigation to run. Depending on what they caught Tygra doing, they might have a case. For now, I suggest leaving the Lunataks well alone. Any further actions will only hurt you," she said. After several more minutes of questioning, finding out all they knew about the events, Mandora mounted her Electrocharger once more and departed for New Lunis.

* * *

Alluro reached the last door and cleared the staircase so that he could descend into the basement. It had been slow going, taking far longer than he'd expected, for him to get there. The orb from his psyche club hung in the air, providing light. While the lights down here seemed to work reasonably well, they flickered on and off as though the backup generator that was supporting them was starting to run down.

"Lion-O?" he heard a grating voice call out. On his list of irritating voices it ranked fourth after Luna, Aristarchus, and Snarfer. "Is that you Panthro?"

"No, Snarf," he said the name with a sneer, "It's not Panthro or Lion-O. I'm afraid they're both prisoners right now."

"Alluro!" Snarf shouted, leaping into the hall, standing on all fours with his hair bristling in every direction in a vain attempt to look intimidating. The overall effect was more comical, however, and the hypnotist began to laugh. "What do you want you balding freak?"

"Is that the best you can do?" he said, gesturing slightly at the psyche club crystal. He figured that maybe since the Ancients were augmenting his powers that he might be able to hypnotise Snarf. "Make a hair joke? You really should just give up. Surrender, Snarf, let me take Mumm-Ra off your hands."

That was a mistake. Snarf hadn't been able to resist his thrall immediately, his eyes starting to glaze over, but at Mumm-Ra's name he snapped out of it. "You'll have to go through old Snarf first, snarf, snarf. What do you want with that miserable mummy anyway? We're better off without him!"

Alluro had asked that same question on many occasions, even asking the eye directly, and had never gotten an answer, so he was very surprised when it began to vibrate, rising out of his pocket and hovering in the air as it glowed its dark red colour again. Both Snarf and Alluro stood mesmerized by it, transfixed in fear and curiosity.

Suddenly their minds were filled with information, they understood everything the Ancient Spirits knew about Nightshade and how deadly he could be. They understood that he was powerful and would destroy Third Earth, and probably the universe, in his quest for vengeance at the gods who had robbed their people of their bodies so long ago. The duo knew that they would need Mumm-Ra in order to defeat him. In that moment they knew that given a choice between the two foul beings that Mumm-Ra was preferable. He at least merely wanted to rule. Nightshade wanted to destroy. They also knew what they needed to do to bring Mumm-Ra back to life.

Snarf stepped aside, a little unsure as to whether the light show had been some fancy trick or not. The expression on Alluro's face suggested that he was just as baffled. The two went to the chamber were Mumm-Ra's body lay and went in.

* * *

The temptation was there, admittedly. Watching Mandora's Electrocharger fly into view and touch down. It would be so easy to give the order that would kill her. She had been a thorn in the side of a great many people, known as much for her stubborn attitude as she was for her adherence to the letter of the law. Mandora was intelligent, and would be next to impossible to manipulate, especially without Mystan at his side to provide telepathic council. But Aristarchus knew that, although there would be great rejoicing in some parts of the universe, to kill Mandora would be to invite the full force of Control's might upon himself.

He could tell immediately that she was under a great deal of strain, as he walked outside of Sky Tomb, where she had parked. So, she had seen what had happened at Cat's Lair. Mystan had speculated that there was some level of friendship there, and he had suggested that an unfavourable inspection could be overturned by citing this friendship. "Evil chaser Mandora. It's good to finally meet you," he said, "I am Aristarchus, governor of the..."

"I know who you are. Aristarchus, former second in line to the Lunatak throne. You had a long list of crimes against you dropped by Queen Luna including murder and attempted murder. You're lucky she did or I'd be bringing you in now. I'm here to verify the Thundercats' claims that you kidnapped Cheetara and to substantiate your claims of illegal Thunderian activities." She ignored the outstretched hand.

"Yes, well. Right down to business then." He gestured towards Sky Tomb and led the way, talking as he did. It really felt uncomfortable not having that second voice in his head, and he wondered if he'd been relying too heavily on Mystan's advice lately. Was that, perhaps, part of the Psion's motives? They were notorious creatures for wanting to rule the throne by manipulating the ruler. It was something to think about at a later time. Right now the other's opinion would have been handy. "As I explained to Lion-O when he first contacted us, it's a shame to hear of her disappearance."

Aristarchus led her up the elevator and into his office. As they went, his crew snapped to attention, stopping what they were doing. "You're more than welcome to look around, but I assure you that you will find no trace of Cheetara here. As to the other matter, I will arrange for you to see Lion-O and he will verify my claims. They have been turning the population of Third Earth against us and sent Tygra to spy on us after we specifically told them not to enter our territory. We acted properly."

"You think destroying Cat's Lair is acting properly?" Mandora asked, her visor flashing, forcing Aristarchus to suppress a grin. If she was showing emotion, then there might be a chink in her armour.

"Our methods may sound strange to you, evil chaser, but I assure you that we did it to protect ourselves. We have shown the outside world that we can be kind and welcoming, but now we have shown them that we are prepared to mete out swift justice when needed."

"No person is above the universal law. I will speak with Lion-O now." He detected an underlying threat in her words. But he shrugged and led the way down to the cell block.

* * *

The body of Mumm-Ra hadn't moved; Alluro wasn't sure if this was a good thing or not. Snarf reluctantly opened the door to the previously vacuum sealed chamber, allowing Alluro to step in. Although he had seen the sorcerer before, it was chilling to see him like this. He had always looked frail and weak in his almost skeletal form, but he somehow looked worse, as though he was truly dead this time. But they had been fooled before, they had thought him dead, only to discover that he had survived whatever disaster had occurred. Alluro stepped inside and gently lifted the body, surprised at how light it felt. Was this the Ancients' magic again or had he always been like this?

His snort drew the attention of Snarf, but he ignored the feline. The thought of the demon priest ever allowing himself to be carted around like a sack of flour was laughable, and he had to remember that rubbing it in probably wouldn't be a good idea. While Mumm-Ra could be gracious, he only displayed that generosity once every hundred years. Even the one time he had seemed to be kind to Alluro it had been for his own twisted purposes. A glance at Snarf reminded him of why his Egora talisman scheme had failed.

"Let's get to the cave of time, snarf, snarf, and get this over with," the feline said, grumpily.

* * *

Wily Kit and Wily Kat were just putting the last satchel of food on their hover boards when Tygra came sprinting into the Warrior Maiden village, looking very relieved to see them. Their own relief and joy at seeing Tygra, whom they believed was still a prisoner of the Lunataks, was negated only by the expression of doom on his face. He fell to his knees in front of them, alarming the few maidens who were present. "Fetch Willa," he panted, his adrenaline waning now that he was there. "Something terrible has happened."

* * *

About twenty minutes later, Tygra sat on a log in the middle of the village, wrapped tightly in a blanket at Willa's insistence, and having slaked his thirst. He had told the story of what had happened, from his imprisonment to the bargain the Lunataks made and the subsequent betrayal. When he told how Cat's Lair had been destroyed a loud gasp went up from the audience. Such an act was nearly unfathomable from a race who were claiming to be reformed. He hung his head sadly. "I don't know what happened to the others. Captured or dead. Hopefully they're still alive."

"That's horrible. What are we going to do, Tygra?" Wily Kit sobbed.

"Forgive me for intruding, Tygra, but what about your friends in the Tower of Omens?" Willa asked. "I can send scouts to the edge of the woods to see if they can tell what happened at Cat's Lair, but the Tower is too far away."

"We'll take one of our hoverboards!" Wily Kat said. "It's not too far, and we'll be careful to stay out of sight."

"I don't like it, but we don't have much choice. I'll go with your maidens. I can still turn invisible and might be of some use."

Willa looked about to tell him that he was too exhausted, that he would only hinder them, but she understood. These were his family members. He needed to know whether they were alive or not. "Agreed. For Lion-O and Panthro!" she said, stretching out her hand.

The others placed their hands on hers. "For Lion-O and Panthro. Ho!"

* * *

Nuiane looked nervously around as she worked in the kitchen, preparing an afternoon snack for Nitro. It was only a sandwich, and not terribly unusual a request from him, but the way he'd made the demand made her feel uncomfortable. The precise recipe he had requested was from an old family cookbook, and on the adjacent page was for a particular meat pie whose main ingredient was Darkling heart. She had no doubts that he had done so intentionally, that there was deep inner meaning behind his selection. Her heart had betrayed him, and if things went the wrong way it would cost her her life.

There was still no word on the sentencing, though she had little doubt that Aristarchus would be making that pronouncement soon. Her gut said that Chilla would die, something which caused her to stop what she was doing as tears began to roll down her cheeks. They'd pretty well been flowing non-stop ever since Nitro had confined her to the kitchen. She didn't want to die. She had tried to be true to him, and serve Aristarchus at the same time. This was the second time her life was in Nitro's hands, she thought sadly.

She had been caught red handed pilfering some valuables from his home, in hopes of buying a ship off the frigid moon. He had reminded her that the penalty was typically a lengthy term in the dungeons, which very well might kill her, but that he had the authority to speed up the process. But, he'd said, he was enchanted by her. It was the breasts, it was always the breasts. She'd been both gifted and cursed with them, but here they had saved her. She was given a choice between a year in the dungeons and a year in his bed. She knew that she wouldn't survive those cold dungeons, and had chosen the option that would grant her life. She had hated him at the time, with a passion, but she'd quickly learned that he could be very kind, and even found herself loving him enough to stay with him when the year ran out.

But no amount of skin would spare her this time. She looked at the knife that she had just set down. Did she dare? Could she? No. Nitro was many things, and a formidable fighter was one of them. She had seen the trophies, and the tattoos on his back that marked him as a master in the arena. A fight would last about two seconds, just long enough for him to get over the shock. About the only lenience she could expect was a quick death.

As she picked up the knife again, cutting a block of meat into thin slices, she remembered the day Panthra had been disposed of. She'd been a sweet girl with a fiery spirit, but Chilla had ordered that all non-Lunar women be removed from his harem. Nuiane had been working in the kitchen that morning when the carcass was dropped off. She had been horrified as the Icewalker cooks prepared the breakfast. She had been forced, as had the rest of the harem, to eat some as a reminder. And now it would be her turn.

* * *

Aristarchus led the evil chaser through the dingy halls of Sky Tomb into the dank dungeon. He had studied the layout of the place and knew that behind these walls ran the sewage lines, and that the stench from them often wafted through the metal to create a tangy atmosphere. Anything to make life uncomfortable for the incarcerated, was the Lunatak policy. Now, though, he was wondering about that. Mandora seemed to be eyeing every crack in the wall, every burned out bulb in the light fixtures, her eagle eyes searching for infractions. She would doubtless be doing so anyway, but the personal nature of the visit suggested she'd be looking that little bit harder. In hindsight, he should have had Mandora wait in his office while Lion-O and Panthro were brought to her. No matter, it was too late for that now.

"Here we are, cell block A," he announced as a pair of guards opened a heavy steel door. There were three cell blocks in total, with each one having a door that led to the rest of Sky Tomb and another leading into the furnace room where prisoners could be expected to load thundrillium into the massive ovens that once would have put Sky Tomb airborne.

She walked past him and up to the cell in question, looking at the two occupants. "These bars are thundrainium," she said, managing to make an exclamation sound monotone.

"As are their chains," he conceded. "They're prisoners of war, we needed some way of ensuring their co-operation."

Mandora's steely gaze met his and he flinched. "Thundrainium can be lethal to Thunderians. Prisoners of war are expected to be treated humanely until peace can be established." She turned back to Lion-O and Panthro, ignoring the hatred coming off Aristarchus. "Apart from that, how are you being treated?"

"You mean other than having little in the way of bedding, privacy and food?" Panthro snorted. "We're not doing too badly." Despite the bravado, it was painfully obvious that he was in worse shape than he would admit. He sat limply on the floor, scarcely enough energy to lift his head, let alone cause any trouble.

"Do you solemnly swear on your code of Thundera to co-operate with the Lunataks, and stay here until a treaty can be signed?" Mandora asked.

"Of course. We always strive to uphold the law. If that means staying here then I swear it, for as long as the Lunataks treat us well," Lion-O said, interjecting before Panthro could say anything. He knew that Mandora would help them, but that they needed to help her to do it.

"That's good enough for me. A Thundercat would never break his oath. Take away the thundrainium and see that they're well cared for," Mandora said, leaving no room for argument from the Lunatak governor. He scowled at her but acquiesced. "Good. Now on to the other reason I'm here. I want you to tell me everything that happened, from Cheetara's disappearance to your arrival here."

* * *

Psychro, along with Chilla, listened to the exchange with fascination. They knew some of it, had gleaned some from things they'd overheard, but had never heard the full story. Psychro was only half listening, however. Mandora fascinated him, ever since the first story he'd heard. She was a legendary figure among any group that might be classified as not being law abiding. She would round up crooks no matter where they went, and there was no getting out of an arrest. In her dozen or so years on the force she could honestly say that she had never accepted a bribe.

It was sort of funny. He'd developed an image of her in his head, listening to barflies telling their tales of woe, and it wasn't too far off. She wasn't nearly as muscular as he'd expected, but he supposed that worked to her advantage. Looks were deceptive, and she had plenty of those. As she bent over to examine where the thundrainium shackles had been he admired the roundness of her posterior. He wondered whether he could crack that shell of stone and reach the woman inside. He was game to try. But not yet. He could wait until he was out... if Aristarchus let him out for something other than an execution.

The thought had occurred to him as a possibility, that Aristarchus would decide that it was in everyone's best interests if the two traitors should die. Psikaris wouldn't be happy about that, and frankly neither would he. He shook his head. Aristarchus was a crafty man, but even he wouldn't be so stupid as to execute two people with such influence. Couldn't happen.

* * *

"I told you to stay put," Mandora said when Lion-O finally finished the story. Aristarchus had wisely kept quiet through the telling, though he clearly wanted to protest several points. He would get his chance soon enough. "While the claims that you were inciting violence and gathering an army are suspect, you did violate a direct order to stay out of Lunatak territory. Declaring this an act of war is a borderline defence, however, and I can't say I wholly approve. I am going to recommend that Control rule the Lunatak actions to have been unnecessary and that sufficient punishments be invoked."

"Is that so," Aristarchus sneered.

"It is. Furthermore I'm writing you up for several building code violations. Faulty wiring, improper plumbing systems, illegal security systems... Yes, I saw those lasers in the entrance. Once I get an inspector here, Sky Tomb will be shut down," Mandora rattled off the list of violations and punched them into a handheld electronic device.

"Violations? Under whose law? This is the city of New Lunis, and we operate under our own rules. We don't need an inspector because Sky Tomb meets our building codes. You have very little jurisdiction here. In fact, if it wasn't for these Thunderians, you would have none. Do you know what the penalty for spying is? It's punishable by death. I fully intend on taking them back to the Moons of Plundarr and holding a public execution, and there's nothing you can do about it." Under ordinary circumstances Aristarchus was considered to be a relatively patient and reasonable man, but these were far from ordinary circumstances.

"Wrong. According to universal law, trials for prisoners of war must be conducted in a universal court where an unbiased judge will decide their punishment. What you do with your own miscreants," she gestured at Chilla and Psychro, "is your business. But the universal law can not be circumvented."

There was a tense moment as Aristarchus listened to her. His fists clenched into balls and her visor challenged him to take a swing. Finally he turned on his heel and left. There was a whoop of joy from the Lunatak prisoners. "Alright Manny! You showed him!" Psychro shouted.

"The name is Mandora, not Manny, and I'm merely upholding the law," she replied tersely, heading back outside to make her report to Control. Once that was done she would perform a search of the premises for any signs of Cheetara.

* * *

He hadn't gotten a good look at the Lair before his sudden dunking in the moat, but now that he did he was stunned. All the hard work put into building it, into designing it, ruined in seconds. That Lair had been his pride and joy. Tygra often spent his time drawing blueprints, even before the exodus, for fantastic structures and vehicles. But he'd never been able to do better... Beside him the two warrior maidens who'd come with him likewise gasped. While they didn't have the same attachment to the building, the destruction on its own was stunning enough.

The battleground itself was evident. The large depression where Aristarchus' ship had rested and the disturbed ground all around it. There was little blood, which was promising, and suggested that Lion-O and Panthro had either escaped or been taken captive. But surely, if they'd escaped, they would have gone seeking the Thunderkittens or the Tower of Omens, wouldn't they? That's what he did.

When he looked for the warrior women, he saw that they too were examining the scene, trying to piece together what had happened from the story he'd told and the obvious evidence. "Tygra!" one called suddenly and he sprinted over. "This looks like what happened when my sister disappeared." She pointed at a patch of ground that looked like the soil had been churned. At first glance there was nothing unusual about it, but then he noticed that the area around the four foot wide spot was undisturbed. The Thundercats had been speculating that whoever or whatever was responsible for the disappearances was taking their victims underground, and this certainly fit that description. But who was it that had been taken? Lion-O, Panthro, or a Lunatak?

Satisfied that they would learn no more, the trio returned to the village to await the return of the Thundercubs.

* * *

Nightshade watched Aristarchus and Mandora through the scrying pool with a certain amount of pleasure. There was so much distrust and violence that the Lunar governor wasn't paying attention to the disappearances going on around him. Certainly the loss of Mystan was hurting him, but it also was making him more unhinged. The only thing missing was an all out war between Control and the Lunataks. That would be the icing on the cake. Perhaps... Nightshade turned and walked over to the prisons and slipped through the shield. "Spitfire, it's time." He grabbed the woman's ankle, staring down the others as they moved to help her. The Icewalker woman was doomed, and they knew it. Still, Cheetara had to try. She jumped on Nightshade's back and began pummelling him with her fists. He flicked her back like one might swat at a fly, sending her hurtling into the wall with a sickening thud. Knave immediately moved to her side to make sure she was alive. "Fool. Your time will come soon enough."

Spitfire was dragged, futilely clawing at the floor, through the force field. "Finish me then, coward," she snarled, spitting contemptuously on the floor. Were she at full strength she might have tried to stand and fight, but as it was she could only prop herself up on her elbow.

"I will finish you off, and then you will serve a greater purpose. War for the Lunataks, wipe out your pathetic race."

"No!" Nightshade turned, startled, to find Shade standing by the pool. "I said no."

"You dare tell me what I may and may not do?" Nightshade advanced on this challenger and hurled a bolt of magical energy into her chest, knocking her sprawling to the floor. "I have tolerated your presence because I thought I might need your body again. I will claim my prize and feast on this one's life. And when I'm done, there will be consequences for your bravado."

He returned to Spitfire and touched the woman's chest, sucking the life out in one clean shot. "And now, my masterstroke." He closed his eyes, pouring magical energy into the deceased woman's flesh. Slowly, imperceptibly at first, she began to morph, changing size and shape to become Cheetara in appearance. "Good. Once Mandora finds this in a Lunatak home, she will declare war on the Lunataks. They'll resist, and many lives will be lost. But don't worry, Shade, Red Eye won't. He'll be here."

As Nightshade carried his decoy away, Shade knew that the time to play the weak old woman was over. They had to get out and defeat Nightshade.


	5. Chapter 5

Return To Power by Jonathan J. Prideaux  
Chapter 5

The cave was exactly as it had been described to him by the ancient spirits of evil. An ordinary looking cave with a deadly secret. Alluro had only come across one reference to this place in his studies of Third Earthen legends, and it had been a vague mention a sorcerer using it to artificially age his monstrous creations. This was only a legend, but most tended to be grounded in fact.

Unlike Alluro, Snarf had seen the effects of the Cave of Time first hand. Once with Tygra and once with Lion-O. The cave, as he knew well, aged one while they were in it, and if one stayed long enough they died. And the ancients wanted them to take Mumm-Ra in there? "Brr... We're here. Now what? Snarf, snarf," he said, shaking.

The Thundercat companion had made his displeasure over the quest known loudly the entire trip, and frankly Alluro was getting sick of it. If it wasn't for Snarf knowing the way to the cave, he'd have ditched him long ago. But the creature had a valid point. What were they to do now? The cave would age either one of them, and tossing Mumm-Ra in didn't seem to be a viable option. He looked at the large stone eye he'd rescued from the blast site of Mumm-Ra's pyramid again and mentally directed the question at it. "They say they will protect us from the cave's effects," he announced to Snarf.

"Not a chance. If you want to put your faith in them go ahead, but old Snarf doesn't want to become older Snarf." He crossed his arms and shook his head. He was stubborn, but with good reason. Alluro agreed that there was every likelihood that the ancient spirits would betray him as soon as his use was done, but he had seen what the world looked like if that other spirit, the one that had possessed Shade, won. There was no point in living on a world like that.

Assuming that the ancients weren't lying, a niggling voice in the back of his head chanted. No. They sounded truly afraid of this thing. Like there was potential for that spirit to do damage to them. They also rewarded those who obeyed them. He squared his shoulders and sneered at the little hairball. It wouldn't do to show fear to Snarf. "Fine, then I'll go in alone," he said, and took the first step inside, Mumm-Ra draped over one shoulder.

* * *

Although the Thunderkittens had traversed this terrain dozens of times, today felt different. Today they had learned that their home was destroyed and their friends might be dead. There was little joy in their riding, and their frolicking was non-existent. What, they wondered, would they find when they reached the Tower of Omens? Would it be rubble too? Would they find corpses?

Each cub let out a breath when they saw the gleaming tower, shining in the distance. It certainly appeared to be intact, at least from this vantage. Urging their boards on, Wily Kit and Kat raced to learn more.

* * *

"Fascinating," Alluro murmured as he went further into the cave. There were plenty of skeletal remains, as he expected. A creature who wandered in might not realize what was happening until it was too late to turn around and get out. But whatever caused this only seemed to be choosy in what it affected. Living tissue, certainly, was affected, but there were still bones, which suggested that there was a point at which the magical aging stopped. Clothing was affected too, or the humanoids who'd wandered in here had all been naked. Since most clothes would be comprised largely of animal hides, perhaps this cave only worked on living tissues.

His scientific mind whirled, trying to think of the things he would like to try. He had an automaton back in his workshop that might survive. And what about plants? And how did it affect mental functions and muscle structures. If he were to bring an infant inside, would they age mentally as well? How would it affect their ability to walk?

There were no more skeletons, he realized as he continued on, suggesting that nothing had made it this far. Virgin territory for any living creature, he realized. The tunnel was jagged, though the floor was somewhat smooth, allowing his passage to go fairly easily. The crystal from his psyche club provided light, so that he didn't trip over anything.

Finally the cave ended at a larger open area. There was a stone slab there covered in writing, and he recognized it as the same language in Mumm-Ra's pyramid. "Put Mumm-Ra on the table," the ancients instructed. "On the living, the cave of time speeds aging, but for those who do not age it speeds their recovery." He did as he was instructed, carefully draping the devil priest on the slab. There didn't seem to be an immediate change, so Alluro settled on the floor and waited.

* * *

"Lynx-O! Bengali! Pumyra!" the kittens shouted, running up the tight spiral stairs to the command deck. All three, plus Snarfer, were there, having seen the cubs approaching on the monitors. They hugged each other, holding on as if to affirm that yes, they were still alive. "You're alright! Tygra told us what happened at the Lair..." Wily Kit began.

"Tygra?" Pumyra said, confused.

"Yes. He's back at the warrior maiden village. We got sent to make sure you guys were alive and to bring you back there. I think we're going to go attack the Lunataks," Wily Kat said.

"But Mandora said to leave the Lunataks alone, yep she sure did, snarfer, snarfer, and we should always do what she says," Snarfer piped up.

"Snarfer is right. Perhaps we should encourage Tygra and the maidens to come to the Tower of Omens. It is closer to Dark Side and would make for a good place to use as our base of operations," Lynx-O said. "And I can contact Mandora to keep her updated. She should be at the Lunatak city by now, and may know more."

"That sounds like a great idea. We'll go back to the village now and try and bring everyone for tomorrow morning," Wily Kit said.

* * *

Zanaya had been keeping watch over her companion for the last several hours from the safety of the woods. She and Lura had been dropped off near Cat's Lair in the hopes of figuring out what had happened to her uncle, and Lura's mentor, Mystan. The two had done a search of the area, working from Aristarchus' description of the battle. After that they had done a more thorough search before Lura announced that they should move somewhere sheltered.

She had seen this done before, and it was extremely difficult to do, none but the best telepaths had the patience and skill to do it. Zanaya watched the younger woman set her back against a tree and close her eyes, sinking deep into a trance. It would be her duty to protect Lura during this delicate time. She was, ultimately, the perfect person for the job; her own powers could convince a person's mind that she wasn't there, it was almost like being invisible, only a little trickier. She'd used it only once before to shield another with her, and knew that it would require a lot of concentration.

The arrival of Tygra and the warrior women had complicated things. Lura had only been in her trance for twenty or so minutes when the feline and his companions and wandered through, inspecting the site of the battle and taking a look at the Lair. Thankfully they either found what they were looking for or didn't want to stay very long, because they left after a short while. And they walked within arm's length of the two women.

With the threat long since gone, probably three or four hours, Zanaya relaxed her guard somewhat and took stock of things. Rushing after Mystan had really sounded like a good idea back in New Lunis. He was important in both of their lives, and to the Psion moon as a whole. He was one of the high priests, the same high priests who governed the moon and were influential parts of the Lunar empire. With Mystan gone it would throw things into chaos for a short time, a new representative would need to be chosen and sent to Third Earth to take his place.

But on a more personal level Mystan was important to her as well. Mystan had been her biggest supporter in life, convincing the high priests to assign her some of the plum assassination jobs. It was through those kills that she had built her reputation. It was also one of those jobs that had stained her flawless record. Nitro. The priests had made the cardinal mistake of wanting him to know who wanted him dead, and that had allowed him the time to figure out where she was and incapacitate her. And now Nitro was back in the city. Would Mystan give her a second chance? It would be fitting, after all, to have the honour of killing both the father and the son.

That all presumed that Mystan was alive, something that was likely but not a guarantee. Chances were that whoever had taken him had done so with a purpose, why take a man when it was easier to kill them? Unless they wanted information. It was plausible, but Mystan wouldn't crack under any circumstance.

Zanaya regarded Lura again. The woman hadn't moved an inch since closing her eyes, which she would doubtless regret when she woke. Lura was a sweet girl, which made her studying as Mystan's apprentice so bizarre. She had the raw talent of a master, and in that regard she would be an excellent high priest, but her demeanor was soft, she was too friendly and forgiving. Too many times, already, she had seen Lura looking for more peaceful approaches in dealing with the Thundercats. In her hands someone like Zanaya would be out of a job.

Or maybe not. How many assignments had come her way where the person was squeamish? Where they had hinted that they wanted a person taken care of, had handed over money, but not wanted to know any particulars. Some who did that wanted deniability, but most were soft people, who knew what needed to be done, but didn't want anything to do with it. Zanaya chuckled out loud. Yes, the first time Lura needed a job like that done would be most interesting.

"I've found him!" Lura said, snapping the older woman out of her thoughts. Now that Lura had a psychic lock on him she was able to move more freely, and together they began running towards the desert of sinking sands.

* * *

At that same moment Shade placed the spell book on the floor. She was very nervous as magic wasn't a skill she'd ever tried, and she only *thought* she understood what the words on the thin pages were. From the times that her mind had touched Nightshade's she had gained a certain amount of arcane knowledge, and it was this knowledge that she hoped to use. Weaving designs in the air she began chanting in the foreign language, eyes flitting between book and mystical barriers. She was old and weak, and the magic felt like it was making her more so, but sheer determination and pride were winning out. The Lunataks and Thundercats were soon going to be killing each other, blaming the other for Nightshade's acts, and she couldn't allow that.

When her strength started to fail, an image of her father flashed into her head. Nightshade was coming for him. He would take him and drain him like he had done to so many others. With a sizzling sound, and the faint smell of burning meat, the barriers dissipated back into the ether from whence they'd come. Cheetara was the first one out, anticipating perhaps that Shade would need help. She was caught by the feline and helped to sit back upright. "Let's kill her," Paeder growled, stepping forward.

"Are you mad?" Knave spat, coming to stand defensively at Cheetara's side. He looked like hell, and clearly could benefit from sleeping for about a week, but he wouldn't let that stop him.

"She's a traitor to my people," Paeder said. "Spitfire and Frostor would still be alive if not for her."

"I'm not thrilled with being captured either, but there is no honour in killing someone who can't fight back. Besides, you saw that thing. It's using her just as much as it is us, and she's redeeming herself," Knave said.

Before Paeder could respond, Mystan stepped forward. "As indifferent as I am whether she lives or dies, do you know how to read that spell book?" Paeder shook her head. "Then we need her alive. We have no way of getting out of here without her."

"Thank you," Shade said. "I just need to gather my strength. There are plenty of spells which might work to get us out, but I'm just so weak."

"Great. So we wait here and hope that Nightshade doesn't get back in time. Wonderful. You're all insane," Paeder sighed, pacing over to the pool of water. There was little else to do but wait and watch.

* * *

It was a little after dark when Tygra and the warrior women arrived at the Tower of Omens. To a woman, every one left the village, determined to show the Lunataks the consequences of trying to conquer their planet. Many would die, they knew, and many more would be injured and taken prisoner, but they wouldn't be taken easily.

Along the way they encountered the Snow Man of Hook Mountain, astride Snow Meow his fearsome snow tiger companion. The Thunderkittens had raced on ahead to see if he would join them, hoping that any extra allies would be beneficial. There wasn't much room in the Tower of Omens, but the women were accustomed to sleeping outdoors and had come prepared. In the control room, Willa, Nayda, Snow Man and the Thundercats stood about, looking at various maps of Dark Side, and discussing possible options. It was grim. The Lunataks outnumbered and outgunned them. The only hope was that they would have the element of surprise.

"I talked to Mandora and she says we are at war, officially, with the Lunataks and that they have a legal right to have Lion-O and Panthro as prisoners. She is doing everything she can. She suggests we stay here, but knows that it's not likely we will," Lynx-O said. The woman was working through the night, trying to find that crucial piece of evidence that would sway Control to come to their aid.

"Absolutely not. Lion-O is in danger and we must help him," Willa confirmed, other voices crying out as well.

"The city is heavily guarded, and they've erected walls. That's going to make life difficult. My suggestion is the river bed. We Thundercats can attack from one side and draw their attention while the women climb up into their city. If we're lucky we can take advantage of their confusion," Tygra said. He'd caught a glimpse of some of the defences while in the city, before he was captured, and had noted that the wall was shorter along the edge of the city that overlooked the cliffs. Of course, he also left it unsaid that with just the Thunderstrike and the kittens' hover boards, that the diversion wouldn't last very long against the Lunatak fleet.

"Taking Sky Tomb should be our main priority. Lion-O's bound to be kept in there, and the Sword of Omens will give us a huge advantage. Plus we might be able to catch some of the leaders and get them to surrender," Pumyra said, and Bengali snorted at the prospect of the Lunataks giving up.

"We've been at this for a long time," Nayda finally said, noting some tension in the room. "I suggest we all get a good night's sleep."

"Nayda's right. If we're to leave at first light, we'll need all the rest we can get," Tygra said. One by one the Thundercats and their companions filed out of the room.

* * *

Tygra found her waiting for him at the door leading to the guest quarters. It was no secret that he and the warrior woman known as Alundra had been seeing each other and he felt a mixture of pleasure and sorrow to see her. "I didn't know which room was yours," she said shyly. It was one of the traits he liked in her, very quiet and reserved, neither demanded a lot of the other's time but treasured the moments they spent together. He took her hand in his own and escorted her to his room.

They went immediately to the bed, not for sexual intimacy but the kind of closeness two who truly trust each other can experience. It was a comforting embrace, trying to will away the heavy concerns that were plaguing them. There was every chance that neither would survive the coming battle, and even then death was not the worst fate that could befall either of them. For Tygra there was potential torture, being paraded before the Lunataks as a prize catch before his blessed relief. Aristarchus had gone in great detail about his potential future, including a vibrant description on how he might be the guest of honour at a feast.

For Alundra the possibilities were more hazy. While the Lunataks might well resort to torture, they were just as likely to enslave their prisoners, forcing them to do whatever menial tasks they wanted. She would probably be forced to work until she dropped or, more revoltingly, be made to breed and produce future slaves.

She stroked the fur at the back of his neck, letting it slide through her fingers, as she sensed him tensing. He kissed her forehead gently, the smooth skin still strange to him, even after all these years. "We'll be fine," he murmured, more for his own benefit than hers. "Good always triumphs over evil." Gradually the two drifted off into a fitful sleep

* * *

Mandora wasn't tired in the least bit. She had a job to do, and resting would waste valuable time, time before those Thundercats did something rash. They would fight, it was inevitable, they were impulsive at times, and wouldn't wait things out. Not that they really had much time to begin with. She had delayed Aristarchus, but he might just take it on himself to carry out an execution; he seemed spiteful like that. Sure, if he executed Lion-O and Panthro she would bring the full force of the law on him, but it wouldn't do much good for the Thundercats.

But if she could find evidence of Cheetara's capture, then she could use Control to bring him in. "What's in here?" she asked of the Darkling, Captain Stalker, who had been assigned as escort. With his high rank he could get her into any room, including personnel quarters. And with his background in security he could appreciate her needs. They were starting with Sky Tomb, methodically entering every room, looking for clues.

"This room is assigned to Lura Crantex, Mystan and Zanaya Benekasbeel and the latter's daughter Krystalin. None of them are presently in the city. Mystan disappeared near Cat's Lair and the other two went to find him. The child is with another family," Stalker said.

"Good, then no one should be inside. Open the door."

He did as he was asked, keying in his override commands, and the door hissed open. The room was meticulously neat, everything was precisely where it belonged. Stalker knew that Mystan liked things orderly and would give Lura a severe tongue-lashing if she didn't do likewise. Zanaya was likewise a clean freak, something that she needed for her professional life.

There was, however, one thing out of place. A tiny, almost imperceptible splotch of red on the side of the desk, next to a closet that was ever so slightly ajar, and Mandora saw it at once. In policing keen observational skills were vital. The smallest thing that was where it didn't belong was a clue. "Blood," she murmured, crouching down and inspecting the droplet. There was a faint smell of cleaning products in the air, as of someone cleaning in the last day or two. This wasn't unusual in itself, given the state of the rooms, but it smelled stronger here. Drawing her boomerang she opened the closet door and heard the startled gasp behind her. There, in a seated position, was the corpse of Cheetara.

* * *

In hindsight, Nightshade mused, cloaked from the sight of Mandora, he should have drained Cheetara and used the real body. His magic probably wouldn't stand up to close scrutiny, but he was hoping that the right nudge would start the war between Lunatak and Control before anyone realized they were being manipulated. Mandora was, after all, one of the best cops in the universe, and if anyone was going to find him out, it would be her. Still, he was pleased when she immediately contacted Control and requested back-up. She was planning on arresting Aristarchus if she could find any evidence of his hand in this and was expecting resistence. While she made that call, Stalker went to fetch the governor.

With those events in motion, Nightshade slipped from the room unseen and began hunting for Red Eye; he needed to teach Shade a lesson.

* * *

"Get up," Nitro said, kicking Nuiane firmly in the shin. After the dinner dishes were cleaned, she had curled up and cried herself to sleep. She tried to read his expression and saw nothing but anger. Following dinner he had announced that he was going to get answers from Aristarchus on what was to happen to Chilla and, to a much lesser degree, Psychro. If he was still angry that meant one of two things. One, there was no decision at all, but then why would he be here? Two, he didn't like the ruling, which boded ill for her.

She stood, trying to appear submissive to him. She'd known him long enough to know that was the best way of dealing with him in this kind of mood. "I spoke to Aristarchus," he said, spitting the name out like it was some kind of poison. "He wasn't in a good mood, something about Mandora snooping around, and he's made a decision. Chilla and Psychro are going to die. Burned at the stake like all Icewalker traitors." It was a painful death, the worst kind for their race. While some Icewalkers were able to throw fire, the flames reacted more negatively on their bodies than it did to the other races.

So that was it. Chilla would die, and Nuiane would die for her part in it. She considered throwing herself on his mercy, but knew that if he'd already made his decision then there was no amount of pleading that would change it. "All I ask is that you make my death swift and painless," she said, closing her eyes, and bracing for it. He always did it himself, she had heard, it showed that he was still a force to be reckoned with.

"I'm not killing you," he said bluntly. She opened her eyes in confusion. "I'm not because Chilla is not going to die. Not like that, not like some common criminal, and you're going to see to it she doesn't. Prince Tycho is en route, or so I'm told, and he will clear her when he gets here. But that's going to be some ways off, so you're going to rescue her or you'll be wishing it was you burning at the stake rather than her by the time I'm done with you."

Free Chilla? Break into Sky Tomb's dungeons? It was a tall task for anyone, let alone someone who had spent the last few years in a pampered harem life. But there was no alternative, there was no room for negotiation with Nitro. "Yes master," she said, "thank you master."

* * *

The guards standing outside Aristarchus' door were quite uncertain as to how to react to the evil chaser demanding entry; a question of whom did they fear more cropping up as they looked at that uncompromising face. That Stalker was with her only complicated matters. Finally, after threats of being incarcerated themselves were brought about, one of them stepped into the bedroom to awaken the governor.

He was dressed in a pair of striped pyjama bottoms and a purple silk robe that showed just enough of his chest to display the battle scar that crossed it. His shoulder blade length hair was unkempt and he bore the expression of one who is not appreciative of being wakened. "What is the meaning of this?" he snapped.

"Aristarchus Lunar, you are under arrest under suspicion of conspiracy to abduct and murder one Cheetara of the Thundercats. Come along peaceably and it will be noted in your record; resist and I will take you by force," she said, handing him the warrant. Further questioning as to how much, if any, involvement he'd had in the case would be conducted in a Control facility, Cheetara's body would also be sent there so that cause and time of death could be determined.

"How dare you. How dare you!" Aristarchus bellowed, startling all except for Mandora. Her years of experience had allowed all manners of people to display their most basic of natures and she had known that he would be a violent one. The tirade continued, "I am Aristarchus, governor of New Lunis and future king of the Lunatak empire. I bow to one's laws but my own and you and your pathetic Control force can shove it." He jabbed a finger at her, grazing her chest. Beside her Stalker gasped at the physical contact and, himself, knew what was about to happen. Mandora's free hand lashed out, grabbing the offending digit and began twisting so that Aristarchus' arm was behind his back. "Arrest her!" he shouted, glaring over his shoulder at the dumbfounded guards.

"I warn you. Hindering the arrest of a felon is a punishable offence," she said even as the duo snapped out of their trance. Mandora shoved Aristarchus bodily into his bedroom and braced herself as the nearer of the two, a slightly overweight Psion, brought his pistol to bear. She grabbed his wrist before he could fire and snapped it against the doorframe. She heard a satisfying crack and knew that he was out of the fight. His companion was quicker, blowing ice at her and covering her from shoulder to toe.

Mandora had come prepared, knowing the basic tricks of the Lunataks, and accustomed to them thanks to a few arrests. She had inserted a device in her glove that would melt the ice, but never got a chance to use it as Stalker dealt her a clubbing blow to the back of the head.

"Take her to the dungeons. We'll have a triple execution, something to show those miserable Thundercats what awaits them. And we'll show Control that they can't bully us at the same time. We are the Lunataks and we are strong!" Aristarchus said, pointing. Stalker and the Icewalker guard dragged Mandora away while the remaining guard went to get his hand looked at.

* * *

"Now what?" Zanaya asked. She and Lura had made slow progress, but had finally reached the desert of sinking sands. It had taken them almost five hours to get there on foot, as the former was still coping with her recent pregnancy and surgery. But now they were there, perched over the spot that Lura said was where Mystan was. Now that they were there, the telepath was able to conduct some kind of conversation and had explained the situation. Some sorcerer had imprisoned a bunch of Lunataks and Third Earthers here, including Cheetara, and was using them as a kind of power source. They were getting ready to fight this creature when it came back.

"I don't know. Dig, maybe?" Lura shrugged. All she knew was that Mystan and the others were beneath them. Ten feet? A hundred? Miles? Who knew? Neither woman particularly felt like digging, and using telekinesis to do it would be just as tedious, especially since it wasn't a discipline either was skilled in. The thought had come up, very briefly, of getting Mystan to do it, since he was one of the best, but there was nowhere for him to really put the dirt once he'd moved it. Besides, if the demon came back, his powers would be needed.

"Great, and me without a shovel."

"Well, we could always call up Aristarchus. See if he could send some people over. They might even be handy in a fight," Lura said. It was worth a shot anyway. Zanaya picked up her communicator.

* * *

There was a noise, as of many foot falls on the floor. Lion-O nudged Panthro awake as Stalker and the Icewalker guard brought in their prisoner. Whoever it was, was draped limply over the latter's shoulder. The cell block was kept generally dark, though it could be illuminated brighter if an inspection needed to be made, and that coupled with the person's dark clothes obscured who it was until the Icewalker turned slightly.

"Mandora?" Lion-O gasped, struggling to his feet and approaching the cell door. He, much like Panthro, was still feeling the effects of the thundrainium shackles that had long been removed. He wasn't as weak as he had been, but it still took a lot of effort to move around. Panthro was on his feet beside him, watching as the guard grunted at them.

"Just following orders. She attacked Aristarchus, so she's being locked up," Stalker told them as he removed her helmet and her boomerang. Satisfied that she was disarmed, the Darkling opened the cell adjacent to the Thundercats. "Just don't get used to her company, she'll be dead by tomorrow evening, just like those two."

He heard the words, but could scarcely believe them. Aristarchus had been attacked by Mandora, and now he had the gall to sentence her to death? Did he not realize how foolhardy a plan that was? Control's reach was vast. They had a standing army, but they relied mostly on friendly worlds supplying extra arms and bodies to maintain order. How many worlds would line up to avenge Mandora, beloved space cop? And then there was the list of worlds that would be more than happy to see the Lunataks knocked down a peg. It was ridiculous. He was fighting a war that could not be won, and why? Because of his ego?

"She'd have been fine if she hadn't accused our illustrious governor with the cat woman's death," the Ice Lunatak said, snorting. "That's right, kitties, we found your friend's body, good and cold."

"Quiet," Stalker snapped. "I'm afraid he's right, though. We found Cheetara's body in one of the bedrooms and Mandora accused Aristarchus in helping to cover it up. She's probably luckier than you two, if the governor has his way. I'm sorry."

The two Lunataks left, leaving Panthro and Lion-O to stand in stunned silence. Even Chilla and Psychro, across the way, seemed to be in shock. Cheetara was dead? The words were alien to the young lord of the Thundercats. She had always been there, it seemed impossible to conceive that she wouldn't be anymore. First Tygra and now her too? Was their species doomed to die out? Would he and Panthro be next?

Sadness turned to a burning anger, hatred for the man who had had a hand in both deaths. Aristarchus. "By Jaga," Lion-O growled, his strength mounting as he punched the cell door as hard as he could. He met Panthro's gaze, saw the same emotions brewing in there. They both knew that they would not let Mandora die. Not this way.

* * *

"They're sending a ship," Zanaya reported to Lura as she closed her communicator. She'd had a frustrating conversation with the woman named Chillaura. It had been like pulling teeth just to get to speak to someone in charge. Something about trying to listen to her music, and how doing work interrupted it. Frankly, the assassin was surprised that the woman still had a job with an attitude like that. "It sounds like there's quite a bit of commotion going on over there, like we're mobilizing for war. I couldn't get a hold of Aristarchus though."

"Yeah, well, I gather the group down there is mobilizing for war too. Mystan says they'll hold out as long as they can, but that the extra support will... I've lost contact. Nightshade must be there!"

* * *

Far away, Alluro sat with his back against the rough stone wall. He had drifted momentarily asleep, but found himself wide awake now. It had been eerily still inside the cave of time, no noise carried this far, and only the very faintest smells from outside wafted through. His psyche club crystal had returned to its place, but shone dimly, allowing him to see barren rock and the plain altar on which Mumm-Ra lay.

He took out the stone eye and saw that it was glowing too. That didn't surprise him, somehow. It seemed probable that the ancients would be gathering their power too since Mumm-Ra was. He turned his attention to the devil priest, a saw why he had been wakened. One gnarled hand was clenching and unclenching, nails scraping faintly against the stone slab on which they rested. A sense of dread trembled through him, watching the sorcerer coming back to life. Without warning, Mumm-Ra sat up, his eyes illuminated with a fiery red light.

"Mumm-Ra lives!" the Egyptian said, standing and stretching. His bones creaked disconcertingly and the tattered remains of his cloak moved restlessly about his shoulders. The demon's head turned suddenly, spying Alluro in the corner, baleful eyes burning holes into the Lunatak's soul. "So, one of the accursed Lunataks. You dared betray Mumm-Ra the everliving, but I can not be destroyed, only stopped for a while."

Alluro knew what he was talking about. Mumm-Ra's death had been the result of a trick by the Lunataks and Thundercats to eliminate a common threat. Alluro had even been present for the planning and implementing of the trap. This was something he hadn't considered on the journey, though, the possibility that Mumm-Ra would remember that. "I suppose saying 'I'm sorry' wouldn't help?" he ventured. There was no point in fighting right now. If he lost, he'd be dead. If he won, he would still be trapped in the cave of time. "Although, I should point out, I brought you here."

The servant of evil pondered this, snatching the stone eye from Alluro's grasp. "Indeed you did. Perhaps some mercy should be shown to you. A quick death then." He raised one bony arm as if to cast a spell, but seemed to think better of it. "No. I am still weak, and I have an usurper to repay. Much as I am loathe to admit it, I may have need of you. Come, then, Alluro. We shall evict my tresspasser, but first; Ancient spirits of evil," he intoned, holding the eye up.

* * *

Snarf was sleeping outside the cave of time. He wasn't sure how long Alluro would be in there, or even if the Lunatak would ever come back out, but he figured that a nap while he waited couldn't hurt. It was only when he felt his tail being grabbed that he jerked awake. His eyes took in the landscape growing further and further away, and he wriggled around to see Mumm-Ra in his monstrous form carrying both him and Alluro through the air. He wasn't sure where he was being taken, but he hoped it wasn't far and that the landing would be more graceful than being splattered across the terrain.

* * *

None of them had really been prepared for Nightshade's arrival, despite their best intentions. Cheetara was seated by the pool of water, trying to figure out how to tune it on to Nightshade, while Mystan was busy talking to Lura. Shade was in the side room, poring over the spell books and trying to decipher them while Knave and Paeder were casting disparaging looks at one another, but otherwise keeping out of the way.

When he dropped through the ceiling, Red Eye struggling in his grasp, he saw immediately that his prisoners had escaped, and hurled beams of energy at each of them. Knave, despite his better judgement, tackled Paeder out of the way and into one of the cells. "Fools! Surrender yourselves or be destroyed!" he shouted, turning as a piece of rock hit the back of his head.

"We'll be destroyed anyway," Cheetara said defiantly, using her innate speed to avoid his next strike. "I'd rather die fighting."

"So be it." More rocks flew, this time courtesy of Mystan's telekinesis. When Nightshade turned to deal with that threat, Cheetara rushed in and kicked him firmly in the back. He stumbled, but didn't fall, ignoring the hit and continuing to advance on Mystan. Knave could see that it was sound strategy, eliminate the opponents one by one. Mystan was the slower, and he might be able to weaken Nightshade more than Cheetara could.

If he were asked, Knave would deny that he helped Mystan because he wanted the honour of killing the grand uncle of his child, he would lie through his teeth and claim that it was mostly because he thought that they might need the man to defeat Nightshade. It wasn't true, of course, he was confident that the addition or subtraction of such a waste of flesh wouldn't make any difference to the outcome, and yet he didn't want to be deprived of the opportunity by the evil entity. His own strength was lagging, he had been a favourite meal for Nightshade, but adrenaline and a will to live pushed him to jump on the demon's back raking his claws across his throat, surprised when no blood spilled.

Nightshade howled in both pain and triumph, reaching back sucking extra life out Knave's body, sending him crumpling to the ground, almost lifeless.

* * *

The Thundercats had quieted down. The bars of their cell were sturdy, one of the things that the Lunataks were very good at making. Psychro appreciated where they were coming from, but frankly had too many of his own problems to worry about them. He was with the most beautiful woman he'd ever met but he couldn't sleep with her because she wouldn't let him. He was trapped in a cell, and would be let out soon, but only for tomorrow's burning at the stake. He had witnessed a number of those and had never managed to make it through one. He could actually recall dumping a hot woman because she had been turned on by the affair.

Things were getting crazy up there, he realized. Mandora had been arrested, which meant that Control would be crawling all over the place, but they wouldn't interfere with internal politics, which meant that his execution might be delayed, but not prevented. He couldn't sleep, not knowing what was awaiting him. It was because of this that he saw Nuiane's appearance before Chilla did. She seemed to ooze through the wall of the dungeon and walked straight towards the Icewalker woman.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded. Right now the why was more important than the how. He had heard of rare Darklings who could become one with the shadows and sneak through small places, so he assumed that was the case. His voice woke Chilla, who got up off the mattress and looked quizzically at the girl.

Psychro saw the look of recognition flash across her face. She was one of her son's playthings. "Nitro sent me to free you," the girl said to Chilla, ignoring the hybrid completely. He couldn't say he blamed her, he had almost slept with her against her will. There were times he couldn't control his powers, unfortunately. "I'm supposed to take you somewhere safe until Tycho gets here. He's been appointed governor and he'll pardon you for your crimes."

"What about me?" he asked, earning a scathing look. He had no way of knowing it, but it was his aborted attempt to sleep with her that had set everything in motion. Nuiane had gone to Aristarchus demanding Psychro's head, which had led to he and Chilla being set up by the governor for an attempt on another of his lackeys' lives.

"You can rot here," Nuiane said.

"No. He's coming with us. And free the rest of the prisoners too. The distraction will allow us to get away," Chilla said, demandingly. Psychro was startled, but pleased. He didn't think that she held him in very high regard, but she obviously cared enough to see to his freedom. Nuiane didn't seem nearly as pleased, but with the personal stakes set so high, she didn't have a choice but to give in. Besides, technically Chilla outranked Nitro and she could order him to get rid of her.

"Fine. But we'll need to be quick." One by one she took the prisoners by the hand and pulled them through the shadows with her until everyone was gathered in the hallway. "The way out for you Thundercats is that way," she said pointing.

"Thank you, whoever you are," Lion-O replied, hefting Mandora over his shoulder.

"Don't mention it. Really." The three Lunataks ran in the opposite direction, towards the outer wall of Sky Tomb. They would follow the tiny crack outside and then find somewhere to hide.

* * *

Red Eye wasn't entirely certain what was happening, and he only had a matter of a few seconds to figure it out. He had been exhausted after a day of work, one of the walls on a house that was being built had fallen and he'd been assigned to help rebuild. Between that and the endless meetings and emotional trauma of his girlfriend being arrested and then dumping him, he had collapsed on his bed still fully dressed.

That turned out to be a blessing. He'd been asleep for several hours before strange hands grabbed him and dragged through the ground, leaving no tunnel in their wake. He wasn't even sure how it was happening. Suddenly he was in a large open cavern and a fight broke out. He recognized Cheetara, Paeder, Mystan and Knave and was momentarily stunned as the hybrid was dispatched by whatever force had brought him here. Red Eye didn't know who the man was, but if the Thundercats and Lunataks were united against him then he knew what side he was on.

"Don't let Nightshade touch you," Cheetara hissed, sprinting past him to try and rescue Knave. "And don't use fire, it likes fire."

He'd seen the futility of attacking the creature physically, and trusted Cheetara's judgement. If fire was what it wanted, she was probably right. He pulled the sidewinder from its compartment on his chest and pointed it at the one Cheetara had dubbed Nightshade. A missile rocketed out, crashing into the demon and causing him to cry out. Those horrible soulless eyes turned and stared at the source of his pain.

"Keep at him!" Mystan shouted, hurling chunks of rock at Nightshade's head. These didn't seem to do much damage, only distracted him as he walked painfully towards Red Eye.

Even while he watched, moving carefully around the edge of the room to keep the greatest distance possible, Red Eye could see the creature's clothes ruined by the blast and a scorch mark on its skin. "What is that thing?" he muttered to himself.

"I'll explain later," he heard a familiar voice say. Red Eye chanced a look behind, and saw Shade emerging from a curtained room.

* * *

Chilla wasn't sure where they could go. Nuiane had led them out of Sky Tomb itself, but the fortress was in the middle of the city. She, at the very least, would be recognized almost anywhere they went, and Psychro too probably. If rumour hadn't circulated about what they'd done yet, Chilla would be very surprised.

Luckily, it seemed that Nuiane had thought somewhat ahead. There was a car waiting, one she recognized as belonging to Nitro, which she ushered them into. At least made sense. Chilla didn't have a particularly high opinion of either her son or the woman he was sleeping with, but he knew them well enough to have anticipated needing a getaway.

The two escapees were settled in the back of the car with boxes and blankets draped over them to disguise their true contents. Through it, Chilla wondered just how much Nitro was involved in this. Did he leave the details to Nuiane and leave himself to appear innocent of wrongdoing? Did he even care that much?

"I always wanted you in the back of a car, you know, but not like this," Psychro snorted, to her irritation.

"Quiet. You're not really there, remember?" Nuiane hissed, as she got into the front. Chilla felt the car start up and pull away. She was grateful for the woman interceding, because her reply would have been nastier. Now they just had to make it to the gate and hope they weren't searched.

* * *

"Sword of Omens, come to my hand!" Lion-O said firmly, raising his hand in the air. Mandora had roused enough to walk on her own, and the two Thundercats had found the evil chaser's weaponry on a table in the guard room. Stalker hadn't bothered putting it away yet, thankfully, though the Thundercat weapons weren't here. Three Lunataks, two Gravitons and a Psion, had been, until the trio took them out.

While Panthro and Mandora locked them in the closest cell, Lion-O held his hand out, wondering whether or not the Eye of Thundera would hear his call. There were ways to block the sword's power, he just hoped none had been used.

The plan, such as he and the other two had discussed, was to get to the hangar and try and take a ship. The Lunatak city was crawling with people, they didn't stand much chance, but they had to try. Certainly their odds would be greatly increased with the Sword of Omens.

Even as he thought the words, he heard an explosion from somewhere overhead, as the sword burst through steel walls and dropped neatly into his still outstretched hand. "Well, if that doesn't tell them something's up, nothing will," Panthro said.

"In that case, there's no point in subtlety. Thunder, thunder, thunder, Thundercats ho!" he shouted, holding up the sword as the insignia flared into the sky, alerting all Thundercats that their Lord was in danger.

* * *

In the Tower of Omens Tygra awoke, disentangling himself from Alundra's warm embrace. He had heard the faint roar of the Sword of Omens and looked out the window. There. Lion-O was in danger. He ran to the control room, with the maiden hot on his heels, to alert the others.

* * *

Flying over the desert of sinking sands, Snarf saw the symbol. He had no way of getting there, however, and the prospect of asking Mumm-Ra for help didn't seem likely.

* * *

Even were she on the surface, Cheetara was too distracted to pay attention to the sword's call, and wouldn't have been able to leave even if she did. Shade's appearance distracted Nightshade long enough for Cheetara to slip in and move Knave out of the field of combat, he deserved that much at least. Paeder was the key to the fight, she suspected. If Nightshade was vulnerable to it, then she had to be kept safe, she was the only one who could make ice of the group. Fleetingly, she wondered if the natural coldness of Knave's body would have made his strikes more painful to the thing.

Luckily, other forms of attack seemed to hurt too. The rocks that Mystan was throwing, combined with Red Eye's missiles were obviously hurting him. But not enough. Cautiously she reached out with her mind, to try and touch Nightshade's mind. She wasn't a skilled telepath, but she knew she had the power. She could sometimes see the past and more, and knew with training she might be even more than that.

What she felt when her mind brushed against his, though, made her recoil. Such an ancient mind, filled with hatred and loathing, a soul tormented by centuries of abandonment, and old wounds left to fester. It was only with the barest of self-control that she was able to pull her mind free again.

Cheetara opened her eyes and saw Nightshade grinning at her, grabbing her arm and sucking the life force out of her like drinking through a straw. Cheetara dropped to her knees, feeling weaker and thinner. The pain was intense, like nothing she'd ever experienced, it was as though she were feeling a lifetime's pain in five brief seconds. The agony stopped suddenly, and she found the demon turning towards Paeder instead. It wasn't hard to see why, either. The Icewalker had managed to get a clear shot and covered his back with ice.

Shards of ice sprayed in various directions as Nightshade howled. "You dare hurt me," he said, running at the woman, though the ice had clearly hurt him.

* * *

"What the hell is that?" Aristarchus snapped. He had been unable to sleep following Mandora's arrest, and had immediately begun planning how they would deal with the impending retaliation from Control. He had with him his advisors, most of whom he had wakened in the middle of the night. There had been a few minor interruptions, so the strange image was just the latest.

"Eet looks like the Thundercat symbol," Tug Mug said, turning to look out the window. "Lion-O must need help."

Aristarchus used a word decidedly unlike himself. "I knew those Thundercats couldn't be trusted. They must have escaped, doubtless rescuing the evil chaser at the same time."

Stalker was two steps ahead of the governor, reaching for his radio before he was told. "All available units to the Sky Tomb prison facility. The Thundercats are presumed loose and armed. Take them alive, preferably."

* * *

Paeder's life flashed before her eyes. A life full of advancing through the ranks of the Icewalker fleet, earning her way onto the flagship by sleeping with the captain, and finally obtaining the same rank. She saw moments of glory, like the time she had led her security detachment into the thick of an angry mob and captured them all without suffering any casualties. And she saw moments she'd rather forget, like her failed relationship with both Psychro and Captain Havallance.

While the evil being they called Nightshade was injured by her ice attacks, he wasn't down, and he closed the distance between them in a hurry. He grabbed her and began viciously draining her life force. He took just enough not to kill her, but leave her alive to witness the final triumph. She fell to the floor and saw Red Eye's missiles crashing into him repeatedly, but having little effect.

* * *

Lion-O lowered the sword and the trio sprinted up the steps of Sky Tomb. People were soon barring their way, firing weapons of all manner down at them, forcing a hasty retreat. "We can't stay here," Lion-O said, looking over at Panthro. His comrade was half-carrying Mandora, and it was slowing them down. Luckily, it seemed, the Lunataks weren't good shots and weren't trying to kill them.

"If we can't get out that door, maybe we could make our own," Mandora said blearily.

"Not a bad idea. Ho!" Energy erupted from the tip of the sword, blowing a hole clean through the outer wall. This hole deposited them in a maintenance hall, which they ducked into. They weren't sure where the hallway led, but figured that it had to be a better solution than staying where they were.

* * *

The Thundercats and warrior women left immediately, even though it was still dark out. The cat signal was rarely used except in dangerous circumstances, and it was all they could do to stop themselves from rushing ahead with their vehicles to help Lion-O.

* * *

Red Eye stumbled backwards against Shade, watching as the demon got closer. "This is your pathetic attempt at rebellion?" Nightshade asked, tossing Paeder aside. "This? All you've done is sped up their deaths. More will come, more will be devoured, including your father. Your boyfriend will be next, mark my words."

Behind him, Mystan used his telekinesis to collect the ice crystals, and hurled them with fantastic force, knocking Nightshade down to his hands and knees for a moment, giving Red Eye a moment to fire his last missile directly into his face.

"Fools! You will both die!" Faster than they had seen him move, though later they would wonder if it was in part to Cheetara and Knave's life force, he grabbed both Red Eye and Mystan by their throats and proceeded to draw their energy into him.

"No!" Shade cried, chanting loudly one of the spells she had seen in Nightshade's collection. Fear and adrenaline fuelled her strength as purple green bolts of power raced out and struck the spirit. She could feel the bolts sending his energy into her, and felt her body getting stronger.

The link was broken as Red Eye was thrown into her, and she had to try and catch him. Nightshade dropped Mystan's useless body to the side and came closer to the woman he had once possessed, the same one he had once thought about keeping alive as a kind of pet. All such thoughts were gone, replaced by thinking of her annihilation. He raised his hand, to steal her life, when a thunderous explosion rocked the cavern. Both Lunatak and ancient spirit looked to see what the commotion was.

The dust choked the air, but they could make out four humanoids and a smaller companion. Shade recognized Alluro, Lura, Zanaya and Snarf immediately, but it was Mumm-Ra who was the most startling.

It was the devil priest of Third Earth who spoke first, stepping clear of the Lunataks to stand face to face with the man who had tried to destroy him. "Now, imposter, you shall feel my wrath."

* * *

Lura felt way out of her league, standing in the middle of the cavern. Zanaya had started to doze off against her shoulder while the two women waited anxiously for help to arrive. She had been loosely reading Mystan's mind, trying to get a sense of what was happening, and it was looking bleak. One by one Mystan's allies fell, including her mentor himself, leaving her feeling somewhat scared about what would happen. Would this demonic beast get them as well? Would Lunar forces get there in time? She was just debating whether they should move elsewhere when Zanaya shook her and pointed skyward.

She saw what the assassin was looking at, a great winged thing swooping down in their direction, carrying two other things. As it got closer, even contrasted against the night sky, she realized that one of those things was humanoid, while the other was shrieking. She pointed her mind in their direction and knew who they were, but she didn't get a chance to warn Zanaya before Mumm-Ra hit the ground in front of them, burrowing down a good fifty feet to the cavern below.

Now she had the chance to see Nightshade with her own eyes, wrestling with Mumm-Ra physically, testing one another's strength. But what could she do? She had seen Cheetara's failed psychic attempt through Mystan, and knew that it probably wouldn't do any good. And even if it did, whom did they want to win? Mumm-Ra winning couldn't be in their interest, could it? The others, she saw, were having similar dilemmas. None of them were really suited as an army. A hypnotist, a telepath, a recently pregnant woman and a Snarf. Even the Berbils wouldn't tremble before their might.

She went to Mystan's side, grateful that he was still alive. "Get Nightshade," he whispered, even the act of talking draining what little energy he had left. Zanaya took a knife from her belt and jumped, intending to plunge the blade deep into the meaty tissue of Nightshade's shoulders. Lura saw the flash of surprise on the woman as the knife nicked the skin, but did little else. Mumm-Ra was able to take advantage, and pressed the attack, gaining leverage on the slightly smaller man.

It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that Mumm-Ra was still weak. Nightshade was being strengthened by the life energy of the prisoners he'd been keeping while Mumm-Ra was unconscious. If the devil priest was going to win this fight, he would need all the help he could get.

Cheetara wasn't a trained telepath, her skill was raw and unfocussed. Maybe, just maybe, a skilled one would succeed where she had failed. At worst it might buy Mumm-Ra a brief advantage. Swallowing hard, Lura centred herself and projected her mind outward again, directing her power at Nightshade.

Like the Thunderian woman before her, Lura felt the weight of abandonment and hatred lurking within Nightshade's being, a desire for revenge almost overwhelmed her. There was such age to the thoughts, so much time alone, so much rage, it felt like she was drowning in raw emotional power. But somewhere in there, buried deep below the surface, lay the brain, and if she could touch it, she might be able to plant a suggestion to stop what he was doing.

There was a hand on her shoulder, Alluro's as it would turn out, offering a calming lifeline back to the real world in case she got lost. It had happened before, telepaths being so caught up by the emotions around them that their minds couldn't find their way back to their bodies. She had seen one, an otherwise healthy body with no soul. Calm and patience came through her physical link with Alluro, a gentleness and reassurance. And faith. She sensed a faith in her abilities, as she forcibly moved through the quagmire of emotions. A nugget of jealousy here, an element of longing there. But she wasn't alone, and she could do it.

* * *

Lion-O opened the door at the end of the narrow hall and the trio found themselves behind a startled group of Lunataks. He blocked the way, brandishing the Sword of Omens, spinning it rapidly to create a shield from the laser fire, and to allow his friends the chance to move further down the hall from the action. When they had what he felt was a good head start, he lowered the sword and ran.

* * *

The evil spirit was staggering under the assault, but he was still stronger than Mumm-Ra. Lura's attack was distracting him, as was Zanaya's repeated attempts to stab him, making it harder to concentrate on knocking Mumm-Ra out. They jumped apart and Nightshade found himself having to switch from blocking physical attacks to blocking magical. Mumm-Ra hurled mystical bolts of lightning at him, and he scarcely managed to put up a shield to block the worst of it.

The demon priest was weakening, he hadn't had the time to recover all his power yet, and he'd been so sure that he could beat Nightshade without it. Now he was paying the price for his arrogance. Mumm-Ra's arm drooped ever so slightly, and there was the faintest of quivering in his knees. This was the moment he'd been waiting for, the moment to press the attack. Nightshade burst his energy shield outward in to needle like bursts of energy that peppered Mumm-Ra's body.

He let out an unearthly howl, his body wracked with pain, while Nightshade basked in the glory of the moment. He would kill Mumm-Ra and then deal with these other interlopers at his leisure, their life would slake his hunger and replenish the energy he had expended thus far. A shimmering blade of pure magical energy with a solid gold hilt appeared in his hands as he stepped closer to where Mumm-Ra's shrivelled mummy form knelt.

"Impossible, you cannot defeat Mumm-Ra the everliving!"

"I just did," Nightshade smiled, raising the weapon. Suddenly he stopped, his body went completely numb for just a few seconds, the sword clattering to the ground uselessly. Ah right, the little girl who was probing through his head. "Get out!" he bellowed.

* * *

The next hallway wasn't much better for the two Thundercats and their ally. The Lunataks were in constant contact with each other, and were constantly in the way. Each time they stopped and fought, only gave the Lunataks that much more time to organize themselves. The trio were being kept from any routes that led either to the hangar or to outside with surprising efficiency. Panthro barrelled through a pair of Darklings and opened a door that proved to be nothing more than a broom closet. "Dang blast it. Let's try this way."

* * *

Lura had been thrown before, both physically and mentally, but nothing compared to the force with which Nightshade expelled her from his mind. It was like having her body covered in bandaids, and all of them torn off at once. Luckily her tether was still in place, and Alluro guided her back into her body. Her eyes snapped open and she saw Nightshade advancing towards them. "Big mistake," he hissed. She and Alluro tried to walk away from him, but there was nowhere really to go. The only escape was fifty some odd feet up, and there was no way to climb it.

But Lura saw something that Nightshade didn't. Gritting her teeth, Zanaya scooped up the fallen sword and plunged it deep into the demon's body, destroying the shell in which the spirit lived. Smoke poured from the wound, coalescing into a cloud that hovered over the battlefield. It struck at Zanaya, still clinging to Nightshade's back, knocking her to the ground, wounded.

"Nightshade! Over here!" Shade shouted, the noise a surprise. Lura hadn't seen Shade in the fight, the elderly woman not moving since her father went down, and frankly Lura had assumed her out of commission, distraught from grief or something. "If you spare my father, you can take me," she said.

"Traitor!" Snarf spat, hissing, but trying to stay out of the way. He was crouched by Cheetara's sleeping body.

"I'm thinking of the ones I love. Nightshade will kill you all anyway, why not try and save my own hide," Shade snarled in the furball's direction.

"It's a deal," Nightshade said, wafting into the woman. No sooner had he done so, than Shade began frantically chanting in some obscure language, her connection with the spirit granting her a greater understanding of the pronunciation of certain words. The spirit struggled to free itself from her, but willpower and the magic kept him in place. The room filled momentarily with light so bright that everyone had to turn away.

* * *

They reached the hangar at last, by some small miracle. The Sword of Omens blazed energy, knocking aside the opposition as they tried to block their way. A large group of Lunataks, including Tug Mug, Stalker and Aristarchus were waiting for them there.

"Surrender, Thundercats, in the name of the law," Stalker said, stepping forward.

"Let us through or face the true law, the universal law," Mandora replied, flashing her badge. There would be a fight, it was obvious to all involved, it was only a question of who would take the first shot.

The Lunataks were confident that it didn't matter who shot first, they would be the ones to shoot last. There were a good forty to fifty of them to the three prisoners, one of whom was unarmed and all three were exhausted and weakened. The Thundercats knew the odds were poor too, they weren't stupid, but neither did they want to give up. With a savage roar Lion-O charged at Aristarchus, followed by Mandora and Panthro, and was easily subdued.

* * *

The light faded around her. Shade flexed her fingers and looked around. Zanaya, Alluro, Lura, and Snarf were still shielding their eyes, while Mumm-Ra was just starting to stir. The others weren't dead, but they weren't moving either. Which left the question of Nightshade. Had her plan worked? A scream echoed through her head, informing her that it had. He was trapped and wouldn't be getting out. "What happened?" Alluro asked, voicing the question that they all were wondering.

"Elward's spell of binding," Mumm-Ra answered, rolling to one knee. He would need months in his sarcophagus to recover from this assault. "It binds one life to another. As Shade lives, so does Nightshade. But it has never been used this way. It was used, at one point, to ensure faithfulness between allies. For if one died, so too would the other."

Zanaya picked up her knife, the sword having vanished with the shell Nightshade had inhabited. "Then we kill Shade and kill Nightshade in the process," she said. "I'll make it a clean kill, you deserve that much."

"No! As I said, the spell has never been used this way, to bind an immortal to a mortal. There could be unexpected consequences. You may find that killing Shade frees Nightshade, a prospect we dare not chance," Mumm-Ra walked closer to where the Darkling woman still crouched, cradling her weakened father. "You have taken a great risk, but you have saved my life. I will transport you and your friends to the surface, and then you must go. I will study the spell in depth, but for the time being, the rest of you must keep her alive."

He clapped his hands once and the group appeared on the surface beside the hole. None dared venture into, for fear of reprisals from Mumm-Ra. "A ship was on its way from New Lunis," Lura ventured. "We should wait for it, and it will take us there. Um, you Thundercats probably won't want to come with us under the circumstances."

Snarf narrowed his eyes and stood protectively by Cheetara's side, along with the Wollo and Berbil that had been present. "I think they'll all be fine with some rest," Shade said, weakly. "And so will I, after about a month of sleep."

The spirit known as Nightshade whipped around her mind, though, reminding her that she would never truly rest. He seemed to promise that he would some day figure out a way out of this shell, but until then he would make life miserable. He might need Shade alive, just in case, but Lunatak life spans weren't very long, the oldest reaching one hundred and fifty years; Shade was only twenty-eight years shy of that. Resigned to her fate, for now, she settled down on the ground and waited for the Lunatak ship.

* * *

"Prince Tycho!" one of the helmsmen said, turning in his chair. Tycho's ship was the fastest one available, and carried fresh troops and supplies. Tycho had insisted on maximum speed, not wanting to give Aristarchus even a minute longer a reign than necessary.

Before they'd left, Tycho had cautioned Luna not to give Aristarchus a head's up that they were on the way, lest he do something rash. Let Aristarchus think that all was going normal for now until Tycho could get his feet on the ground. At present they were two days away from Third Earth, time enough that any transmission Luna had sent would have gotten there by now.

"Yes? What is it?" he asked anxiously, as he walked up to where the young man was sitting.

"We're intercepting a message from Control. Their forces are getting ready to attack New Lunis on Third Earth," he said, hastily recording the transmission.

"Dammit. Get me through to the nearest Control headquarters. Let's see if I can get Aristarchus out of whatever mess he's getting us in to."

* * *

The sun was just cresting the sky while commotion took place in front of Sky Tomb. A large pit was set up, and Aristarchus happily walked among the crowd of people, checking the preparations. Things were looking brighter now, and not just in the literal sense. Mystan had been found and was safely back in the city; he would recover and would soon be back by his side as advisor. The Thundercats were his prisoners again, and Mandora would soon be dead.

As if on cue, a group of soldiers, mostly Gravitons, came out with the three prisoners. The Thundercats were heavily shackled in Thundrainium chains, while Mandora was being held in place by a skilled telekinetic. Mandora was carted over to the pit and firmly secured to a metallic post in the middle. Wood was piled around her, and this was further soaked in gas. Normally Aristarchus believed that an execution should be experienced at dinner, an entertaining light show contrasted with the gathering darkness; but the escape had cost him precious sleep, and he didn't want to take the chance of further heroics.

He walked languidly over to the pair of Thundercats, struggling futilely despite their bonds. "You should count yourselves fortunate," he said, leaning down to meet their hostile stares. "You won't be sharing her fate. No, you will be paraded through the streets on all the moons of Plundarr, a symbol of my superiority over Luna. Maybe, after I've had my fun, I'll kill you, or maybe I'll break your wills and make you my personal slaves." He began to laugh heartily.

"Yo! Aristarchus, we got company coming," Chillaura said over his radio. "Looks like Thundercat vehicles and warrior maidens."

"Oh ho! Friends of yours. Make the pit bigger, we'll throw some of these warrior maidens on as examples of what happens to our enemies. Everyone else, prepare for combat. Mobilize the fleet, take them alive if you can."

* * *

The Thunderstrike detached from its position above the ground forces, consisting largely of people on foot but also including the two hover boards used by the Thunderkittens. Lynx-O disengaged the side pods, creating more air support. He knew that he, as well as Bengali and Pumyra, would be the keys in this fight. The Lunataks possessed many ships in the atmosphere, and their own ground forces could overwhelm the warrior women. But if they could gain the city quickly enough, there was a remote chance that the Lunataks wouldn't destroy New Lunis with their fighter craft.

About a hundred Lunataks were already gathered at the front gate, with more racing from every part of the city to boost the numbers. Lynx-O didn't really want to kill, but those were his friends down there, and the Lunataks weren't likely to want prisoners. His first energy blasts cut a swath through the forward ranks before he had to circle around, and the braille board informed him that there were three definite kills. Behind him the two side pods made their run, wounding many and killing another half dozen.

The Lunataks on the ground weren't unarmed, of course, and returned fire. Missiles rocked the side of the Thunderstrike, as did balls of fire and hurled chunks of earth. Worst of all were the Psion attacks, which weren't so easily avoided. Bengali screamed over the radio, shouting that something had a grip on his control stick. And things were only getting worse; already his long range scanners indicated that several small Lunatak ships were descending from their bases and making a beeline for them. "Pumyra! Bengali! Keep fighting, reinforcements are coming at eleven o'clock!"

* * *

"I understand that," Tycho fumed, sitting in his office and staring at the cold face of the evil chaser on his screen. "All I'm asking is for a temporary cease fire so that we can work on some kind of agreement. I'm a big proponent of justice, I want to see the right thing done. I'm not there yet, though, and I can't do anything until I'm on the ground and can restore order."

The woman, a human with reddish hair, seemed unimpressed. "Your people have one of ours. There can be no negotiating until we get her back."

"And you will. Just tell your people to wait. I'll be there within a day. I'll get Mandora out of there and safely return her to you. I need time."

"Time is a luxury we don't have. Policy dictates that when an officer's life is in danger we act swiftly. Our rescue operation forces are en route and will be there shortly."

The transmission ended abruptly, leaving Tycho fuming. Only the calming presence of Darius stopped him from trashing the room. "I think it's time you made a different call," Darius said grimly.

* * *

If Tygra had thought the hardest part of the journey would be walking through the Forest of Mists before the sun rose, he was wrong. With the Thunderstrike now occupied defending itself from the sleek fighters that were whirring about it, he, the kittens, and the warrior maidens were having to fight the Lunataks person to person. Volleys of arrows had been the first move, downing several Lunataks, while the Lunataks counterattacked with their various offensive powers.

Unlike the others, he had an advantage against most of the combatants. His invisibility allowed him to support any of his friends who might need it at a moment's notice. Like Wily Kat, who had been tackled from his space board by a Graviton, who was proceeding to choke him. Tygra sprinted over, tripping an Icewalker bent on breathing ice on Nayda, and clubbed him in the back of the head. The pungent aroma from being this close to the Graviton was nearly overwhelming by itself, but was nothing compared to what it would be like if they failed. Pumyra had reported, horrified, the bonfire pit she'd seen on her monitors with Mandora bound to the stake. Was that the fate that awaited them all?

Wily Kit screamed, an energy blast catching her squarely in the chest, knocking her flat on the ground. He lost sight of her as a group of warrior maidens and Icewalkers got in the way. He prayed to Jaga that she was still alive. How many lives would be lost today he wondered? A Darkling ran at him, using his infrared vision to spot the feline immediately. Tygra crouched and pounced on the man, his claws ripping at flesh and his fists rendering him unconscious. So much blood, so much death.

A second Graviton, seeing the Darkling fall and sprout wounds for no obvious reason, barrelled over, forcing Tygra to abandon that opponent and get to safety. He knew he shouldn't, but he found himself searching the battleground for Alundra. She was over to his left, he thought, locked hand to hand with an Icewalker whose hands were glowing red. He had to get to her quickly.

* * *

Pumyra watched as Bengali crashed his pod into the ground. After all the work put into fixing the Thunderstrike, to see it taking this much abuse was a real shame. The Lunatak pilots were very good, and outnumbered her five to one. It was only through sheer luck that she wasn't parked next to Bengali's.

In the opening moments of the fight, a telepath had prodded at her mind, suggesting that what she really wanted to do was shoot down Lynx-O. Thankfully he wasn't very good at it, and she resisted his voice long enough to send an energy blast in his general area. While the ground erupted in a shower of earth and rock, the voice in her head suddenly vanished. "Lynx-O! Something's happening!" she said, as four of the five fighters on her tail veered off and went back into the atmosphere.

"I see it, Pumyra. Hang on," came the reply from the oldest Thundercat. Seconds later he had slipped behind her pursuer and blown him up. With the skies now empty she could see that whatever was happening with the fighters in the air was also happening on the ground. Clumps of Lunataks were slowly moving away from the fight.

"I don't get it. There's almost ten of them for every one of us. Why are they retreating?" She asked.

"The braille board says that it's mostly the Icewalkers, Darklings and now the Gravitons pulling back."

* * *

Lura knew it too. One of the advantages that Lunataks had over the other, lesser, races was their use of telepathy. She and several others had been conscripted into helping co-ordinate the fight, relaying messages from commanders to the subordinates. Unfortunately several of those commanders were relaying orders counter to Aristarchus'.

She didn't even want to be there. Her place, as Mystan's pupil, was at his side in case he needed anything. "Go," he had told her, "Aristarchus needs people loyal to him." And so she had gone, for disobeying a high priest was tantamount to blasphemy.

Her sense of duty and loyalty to Mystan didn't make breaking bad news to Aristarchus any easier. The man was still standing by the Thundercat prisoners and the fire pit, anxiously hearing reports from the battlefield. Taking a deep breath and squaring her shoulders, she approached him. "Nitro and Stalker are pulling their people back, the Gravitons are following," she informed him.

"What? I gave no such order. I want their heads! I am in command here, not them, the gutless cowards," Aristarchus said, turning with such anger that the Psion woman took a large step back.

"Actually, they say their orders come from Tycho, who has been re-assigned as governor of New Lunis. They refuse to listen to you." He struck her with such force that she nearly fell into the fire pit herself, and a thin streak of blood oozed from her cheek.

"Tycho?" Aristarchus roared. "Tycho! I will not have my moment of glory spoiled by that useless whelp. Send the word, we kill all the prisoners! All of them!" He started to walk towards the fire pit, grabbing a lighter, menace in his eyes.

Lura scrabbled out of the way, frantically trying to get a hold of Mystan psychically to appraise him of the situation and seek further orders. She could see that Aristarchus was going mad, and wanted no part of whatever might happen next. She had been iffy on executing Mandora, and that was when they had held a position of power over the Thundercats. That, at least, had been a situation they might be able to rectify. But this?

"Farewell, Mandora. It gives me great pleasure to end your life," Aristarchus said, setting torch to wood.

* * *

The Snow Man of Hook Mountain had managed to find himself on the edge of the combat, paired with his fearsome steed/best friend Snow Meow. He threw a Royal Lunatak aside and was pleased with the way things were going. The Lunataks seemed to be disorganized now, and it was in their interest to press the advantage. Like the others, he had no idea what was going on. One minute he had been surrounded by Icewalkers and Darklings, and the next they had faded back out of his reach.

He was just about to go after a large Royal Lunatak when he saw a faint wisp of smoke heading up into the sky from within the city. There was something ominous about that, and it needed his attention. "Come on, Snow Meow! Into the city!" he urged, not needing to say any more; the great white cat understood his master and they ran.

* * *

"Nitro! Aristarchus is killing the evil chaser!" a telepath who was on the high ranking Icewalker's side announced in a panic. While most Psions tended to follow whatever the high priests said, there were a few who disagreed.

"All available units, rescue Mandora. Now," Nitro spat over his radio. He didn't particularly like the woman, though he had great respect for her dedication to the law, but Tycho wanted her alive.

The whole situation was awkward for Nitro, as he sprinted for the city's centre to try and maintain order until Tycho could get there. Icewalkers were known for two things, their ferocity in a fight and their loyalty to whomever was in charge. Strictly speaking, at present, that was Aristarchus. Even with Tycho en route, it was Aristarchus who was in command during over most military matters, if he understood the message from the moons. Tycho would handle the diplomacy, and Aristarchus the military.

But Aristarchus had gone mad, whether from the power he had or if it had always been there he wasn't sure. Nitro tried to convince himself that he wasn't betraying his oath for personal reasons, either. Even though Aristarchus was the man who had sentenced his mother to death, he couldn't let such things hold sway over the way he conducted his business. No, right now his only motivation was that he thought Tycho's orders superceded Aristarchus' on this matter.

As he rounded the bend he saw a fight had broken out between individual forces. Aristarchus' loyal people were forming a barrier between Nitro's Icewalkers and the fire pit, where Mandora was coughing and sputtering against the wall of flames. Even as he drew near he could see her skin turning red, and her cries getting weaker. She wouldn't last much longer, which was largely what Aristarchus needed.

The man himself, the cowardly fool, was taunting the Icewalkers from the safety of the rear line. "Nitro! New problem, Control ships incoming, long range scanners picked them up."

"Stand down. Let them through," Nitro said, cursing softly. If Control found Mandora dead, there would be hell to pay. Charges left right and centre. He himself would probably be dragged before a court of law, and that would hurt his family's standing. "All ice breathers, put that fire out, Aristarchus be damned."

* * *

Lion-O really wasn't sure what was going on, and was finding it hard to concentrate anyway. He had watched in horror as Aristarchus lit Mandora's pyre. Her uniform was made of special material, and the helmet was custom designed to provide the wearer with a steady oxygen supply, even in deep space, but neither would last very long against the raging inferno.

But it wasn't just that happening. He had heard Lura's report that several of the Lunatak factions were turning on Aristarchus at the behest of Tycho. That was one Lunatak whom Lion-O did respect. He had felt some kind of kinship with the former Lunar prince, a pair of people who were born to lead but neither really wanted the job. He had been saddened when Tycho had finally gotten his wish and had moved back home to live a quiet life, and almost wished that he could do the same. If Tycho was coming back, that meant that order might be restored. Sure, there would be residual tensions between their peoples, but there would also be hope for the future.

The Icewalkers seemed to be at the forefront of Tycho's rebellion, trying to break through the telekinetic shield that Aristarchus' Psions were raising. Were he not shackled in Thundrainium and watching one of his friends being roasted alive he might have found the confrontation fascinating. Certainly he'd never seen this level of hostility between Chilla and Alluro, but then he had never really looked for it.

Fifty mouths opened then, breathing a steady sheet of ice that cracked through the invisible barrier, coating both startled Psions and, thankfully, Mandora. Beside him he heard Panthro breathe his own sigh of relief.

* * *

"It's over, Aristarchus," Nitro said, walking around his men to meet the governor of New Lunis. A few of the Psions near the back, along with Aristarchus, had avoided the worst of the ice attack and were now starting to get ready for a second round.

"No. Queen Luna appointed me governor of this city, which means you follow my orders, do you hear? You will obey me and kill Mandora, kill the Thundercats, and kill their allies," Aristarchus replied, walking closer. "And if you don't I will have you and your mother burning in that pit long before Tycho gets here."

Nitro regarded the man for a long moment. This was a man who was constantly betraying his people for the sake of personal gain, a man who had tried to kill one of Nitro's friends just because Tycho had held a higher rank, a man who thought little of the safety of anyone except himself. Aristarchus was in reasonably good shape, practising constantly with weapons, but he was nowhere near Nitro's level. Oh certainly he was smarter, Nitro was willing to concede that point, but when it came to muscle he didn't stand a chance.

"Try and take me then," he said, bracing for an attack. Predictably Aristarchus obliged, swinging wildly with his right fist, which Nitro skilfully countered by stepping out of reach. With his opponent thus overextended, Nitro tripped him and pinned him to the ground with his arms trapped beneath him. "On prince Tycho's behalf, I am relieving Aristarchus of power until proper negotiations can be made. Inform all Lunataks to back off from the Thundercats and warrior women, and inform Control that we will co-operate in any way they ask."


	6. Chapter 6

Return To Power by Jonathan J. Prideaux  
Epilogue

There was a somewhat joyous reunion as Tygra and the other Thundercats helped Lion-O and Panthro out of their Thundrainium shackles. For the two former prisoners they were relieved to see that Tygra had not, in fact, perished during the destruction of Cat's Lair. The sense of relief was only tempered by the number of casualties outside the city. Already Willa's people were tending to the wounded and trying to decide how best to transport the dead. Twenty-three women died, of the close to three hundred that had made the trek, and each one would be mourned properly. The injured were the more pressing situation. Everyone had some kind of injury, though many had very serious ones.

Looking around Lion-O shook his head sadly. Such violence, and over what? What purpose had been gained by capturing Cheetara and doing who knew what. He hoped that once Tycho arrived that her body would be released. If nothing else, she deserved to be buried in Thunderian fashion. Still, the fact that any of this had had to happen amazed him. Things had been so peaceful between the two peoples, and now...

"Penny for your thoughts," Tygra said, standing by his lord, likewise staring at the Lunatak doctors walking through the bodies. The two were by the city's walls, near where Bengali's pod had crashed. He and Panthro were inspecting it to see if they could make it flight worthy again.

"I'm just thinking how much progress we thought we'd made here. And now this. A war we didn't want. No home to go back to. So many of our friends lost, not to mention Cheetara," he said.

"Cheetara? Excuse me for interrupting, but I think you're mistaken." Lion-O turned to see a young Psion woman picking her way carefully towards them. An ambulance rushed by, carrying a Graviton with an arrow lodged in his eye, though neither Thundercat knew it. "Um, my name is Lura, and I can vouch that I saw Cheetara and Snarf alive and well not more than six hours ago. It's a bit of a long story, and I was going to report to Tycho when he gets here. I can't imagine that you would be unwelcome."

For the second time in the last few minutes, Lion-O was stunned. "But the reports were that Mandora saw her body. She can't be alive."

"She is. Like I said. It's a long story."

* * *

Tycho's arrival, along with many people from Control, brought fresh commotion. Quite soon a few select Control officers, the Thundercats, Willa, Nayda, the Snow Man, Tycho and his surviving council members, with Lura representing Mystan and Chilla coming out of her hiding spot, all were gathered to give reports on the recent events. Lura and Alluro relayed what they knew of from Nightshade's cave, including Mumm-Ra's revival and the abductions of several Third Earth denizens, while the Thundercats explained their version of events, including their time trapped in Sky Tomb's prisons.

Ultimately Control, at Mandora's insistence, arrested Aristarchus for his crimes; both against the Thundercats and against an officer of the law. He would be tried and he would be punished, though it was expected that the court proceedings might take a while. The evil chaser was adamant about being at the proceedings, despite having suffered minor burns and feeling the effects of inhaling all the smoke. She would recover and be chasing down perpetrators again in no time at all.

Shade's fate was a little more difficult to ascertain. Her involvement in the abductions was forgiven, but the evil creature living inside her posed a conundrum. How did one punish Nightshade without also punishing Shade? A possibility had been raised, though Red Eye immediately shot it down and threatened bodily harm on anyone who agreed with it, to jettison her into deep space where the spirit might never come back.

Tygra, on the other hand, had a temporary solution. "On this planet there is a fountain of youth," he explained, though he was reluctant to even give that much knowledge to the Lunataks. If they ever found the fountain, they might cause unspeakable trouble with it. "We can take Shade there and de-age her so that she can extend her life span. Hopefully the extra years will give us enough time to come up with a permanent means of containing Nightshade."

It wasn't a perfect solution, but it was better than leaving things as they were. For their part, the Lunataks agreed to offer transportation for the Thundercats and their allies back to friendly soil, now that the reason for their misunderstanding was out in the open. An offer to help rebuild Cat's Lair was firmly, but politely, denied. "There's still residual resentment, between the Lunataks and Thunderians," Lion-O explained. "Perhaps, with you back in place those wounds may be healed. But not yet. Thank you, though, for the offer."

* * *

When the discussions were finally finished, the Thundercats left for the Tower of Omens and found Snarf and Cheetara there, waiting anxiously. "Lion-O!" Snarf said, bounding down the steps and jumping into the arms of his charge. "We were so worried about you, snarf, snarf!"

"Snarf told me about Cat's Lair, so we came here. We didn't know what to think when we saw it empty," Cheetara added, wrapped tightly in a fleece blanket and still feeling very weak from Nightshade's touch. Truth be told, it felt hard to walk, even with Snarf filling her belly with food.

"A lot happened. I'll explain once we're inside. I think I speak for all of us when I say we could use a good bite to eat," Lion-O said, wanly smiling, and leading the way inside. They would all take a long time to recover from what happened. The scars ran deep, both mentally and physically. Even though so many of the warrior maidens had died, it did him well to see that the Thundercats were together again.

"I'll get right on it then," Snarf replied, cheerfully, showing that the feeling was mutual. He hopped out of Lion-O's arms and dashed off to get things ready.

* * *

A few days later, Chilla found herself face to face with Stalker and not feeling thrilled at all. One of Tycho's first acts had been to pardon herself and Psychro for their supposed crimes, and to announce that he would launch a full investigation into Josa's account of events. She hoped that he would grant her permission to execute some Icewalker justice on the treacherous woman. But thoughts of that were scuttled at present. "You're kidding," she scowled.

"I'm not," Stalker replied. "Given recent events Tycho wants me to be more diligent in keeping everyone up to date in all training exercises. You're listed as having pilot experience, but your flight hours are dismally low. I've got one opening today and you're filling it. It's a Psi-Blade class ship, which isn't much different than what you're used to. You'll perform a couple of manoeuvres and come home. Easy as that."

Chilla sighed. Psion ships were generally pains in the neck to use, designed for much taller pilots and their co-pilot. Which raised a second point. "Who am I paired with?"

He checked the duty roster, cycling through the available names. She knew, as soon as she saw him going through the motions, that he had picked one out; a punishment of sorts for not keeping her skills up. "Looks like the only one not busy during that shift is Psychro, of House Myntaello."

"Great. Just great," she hissed.


End file.
